Trans-Spatial Inclination
by T.L. Arens
Summary: Chpt 14 of Dark Storm Rising. The Sagittarian Mozart is rescued by a snail. Wait, that's only the beginning. Welcome to the party! Rusti turns chaperone for six humanized Autobots, an old lady runs her own radio station, an entire quadrant of space struggles under a dictatorship and Galvatron is bald.
1. Chapter 1

T.L. Arens: Dark Storm Rising

TRANS-SPATIAL INCLINATION

 **I**

Optimus laid in the near-dark. Soft blue emergency light projected conflicting reflections and shadows; the ship was completely offline. Bitter flooring gnawed his exostructure with a type of pain he had not felt in thousands of years.

Optimus failed to account the duration of his stasis. Certainly not a good sign.

When he sat up all his physical senses screamed in a different language. He touched the metal floor. Every scratch, minuscule dent and bits of dirt relayed information in a startling, detailed manner. The enfolding dark prohibited clear visual scans. Looming abstract shapes reflected and absorbed the emergency lights. _Something's wrong_ , he wordlessly mouthed. Laying a hand on his foot Optimus recognized the sensation of pliancy. _No_ , he thought. "No," he whispered.

Five _toes_ wiggled. One finger over a thumb confirmed a thumbnail. With a brush over his face: Hair. Nose. Eyes. Lips. Ears.

Optimus' memories raced back, back; four million years. Five million years. Six million ' _and change_ ,' as Rodimus might add. Lord Tayroug from Oltalis, somewhere in the Cygnus IV system, traded bodies with Prime. To be sure he did not suffer the same fate as before, Optimus stood and checked for a tail. No. An oblong head? No. But he did have thick hair. Webbed fingers? Negative. His tongue assured Optimus he had one jawline. His tongue was not split nor did he have double rows of teeth with which he might sever his tongue like he did back then.

Air automatically filled his lungs as his shoulders sank with relief. _Do not panic_ , he told himself. First off, it could be a weird dream. Secondly...the moment spiraled from bad to much worse. Maybe if he kept his optics facing forward rather than searching the ceiling, the ceiling would not look at far away as it did right then. The Autobot leader swore in a language he had not spoken for millions of years. His form turned organic then his stature shrank. Damn.

"Okay," he said aloud, "first: light. Second: something to wear." Prime raised his voice, "Mozart, light!" He grimaced when nothing happened. "Please?"

Damn.

Prime rifled through memory to recollect his whereabouts; where Autobot Shark stood to his proximity and whomever else worked in engineering that day. J-Breaker, as Optimus recalled from the roster. "Right," he said out loud, "J-Breaker, Shark and Q-T. Oh! I remember. Kaven, Michelle a-a-and Dennis." Dennis was the new trainee.

Like a blindman knowing his way around home, Optimus located the team of human/humanoids where he assigned them several days before. Not one of them stirred from unconsciousness even when Prime called their names. Why was he the only person conscious? He double-checked, took their pulse and listened for breath. Their cold bodies indicated death, yet Prime detected nothing of the sort. He stretched forth his awareness and found no death anywhere along the ship.

"Well," he announced, "I'm sorry to do this to you, Kaven. But you're closer to my size than either Dennis or Michelle." Optimus procured Kaven's informal clothing and armor. To his great relief, Prime found a miniature digipad in Dennis' pocket. Kavin's boots squeezed a little tightly, his jeans hung loose about the hips. Optimus scanned the buttress nearby their work station and pried open an undetectable panel along the side.

"In case of emergency, ask Optimus," he joked. Prime dipped his hand inside the secret compartment and flipped several switches. He waited ten seconds. When nothing happened, he moved on to the next agenda. A flashlight, communication headgear and two standard ion pulse rifles greeted his probing fingers. Extra clips and a weapons belt came next. A bottle of water, a utility knife and two packs of rations hugged the inside wall. Two sets of protective overalls sat neatly folded, used only if the ship's engines malfunctioned. There was also an emergency tool kit which included everything necessary when working in engineering. "Note to self," he said to the communicator. "Never, ever, ever tell Rodimus. Hopefully, this awkward situation can be swiftly and quietly rectified." Prime raised his voice again, "Mozart. Status authorization Orion 619, 2021. Report."

Silence.

With a soft growl, Prime picked out a smaller flashlight and headed for the entryway. Everything towered above him; an ant in a sterilized, mechanical world. Upon reaching his point of origin, Prime turned the heavier flashlight in Shark's direction. The Autobot engineer hovered like a three-dimensional statue held fast in time. Optimus read Shark's life signs but could not tell if Shark hovered there fully conscious.

"I'll never hear the end of the jokes over this situation," Optimus tapped into the ship-wide comm frequency. "This is Prime. If anyone is able, please contact me on this channel."

-INCLINATION-

All the important question came first: Where am I? What happened? Who am I? Why?

Darkness hovered thick and heavy like a void of endless "what the hells."

The next question: Why am I cold?"

Galvatron sat up and wiped his face.

Wa-a-a-ait a second. Whose hand was that? "Who's there?" he whispered. He slapped his hand over his mouth. The metallic tone was gone and his face felt squishy. Galvatron squealed and scooted backward. The floor's cold smooth surface accommodated his movements but his body slapped instead of thunked. Something more was wrong. Oh Primus, don't... No! His hand crept toward his crotch. He squeaked when he squeezed too hard.

"Okay," the former leader said to himself. "Let's, let's not panic. Wait. First: Where's Rodimus?"

Galvatron patted the floor until he grabbed warm flesh. Further down, the flesh formed a foot. North of that direction, it turned into a knee. Assuming the foot and knee are parts of Rodimus, Galvatron postulated, it meant that whatever happened was not a fluke, nor was he singled out. Mentally reaching backward, Galvatron recalled carrying Rodimus into the turbolift. The doors didn't shut. Right! Rodimus was badly injured, they were going to medbay when the floor lost its color. He checked Roddi's wounds. To his relief, the injury to Rodimus' back was not wet with blood. His left leg, however, saturated Galvatron's hand. The Decepticon crouched and accidently smeared Prime's blood on his own knee.

 _We phased out of space and time_ , he assumed. _We're not dead yet._ He stood and tried to formulate a plan. Galvatron lifted his eyes against the impenetrable darkness. "If I have to look like this," he said aloud, "can't I at least have a super power?"

Galvatron wiped his face with his cleaner hand, scowled and tried to recall the last time he stood in absolute darkness. Nothing recent came to mind. _Thi-i-i-ink!_ He had no idea which way to turn, how far he was from the entrance nor did he know whether or not he and Rodimus were alone. "I can't just leave," he said to himself. "Rodimus is hapless and helpless. So, that would... not be good." Galvatron stood and laced his fingers behind his head. His hands contacted warm skin. Puzzled, Galvatron searched his head. No hair. Not so much as fuzz capped the nudity of his skull. So the strange transformation left him with a polished pate? Amusing.

Venturing in one direction with outstretched arms, Galvatron felt his way around the dark world.

Solid wall.

He tried another direction and stumbled over Roddi's unconscious form. With a foul word on his tongue, Galvatron caught himself then ventured right. Even several yards off, his path remained clear. Leaving Rodimus alone wasn't a good idea, but failing to look for help or resources was irresponsible. Something caused the Mozart to shudder and Galvatron stumbled. That was it. He had to find help.

-INCLINATION-

Cyclonus teetered at the edge of consciousness and the dream state. His aerodynamic frame froze in mid-motion while the ship's interior turned translucent. Cyclonus ordered his body to shift and fly but not so much as a digit moved. Only his awareness continued to function. _What's happening to me?_

Was that a voice he just heard? His frozen body responded to none of his demands. As he tried time and again to move, something like a speck of ghostly light floated from the lightless cross-corridor.

The ship bucked and teetered. And an EDC officer from the opposite direction slid across the floor. His weapon followed and discharged. The phaser hit Cyclonus' right foot and his whole body tingled with scorching pin pricks.

As if attracted by the magnetic destabilizer (EDC-issue) the ghost-light returned, accelerated and slammed into Cyclonus' chest. A hurricane of sounds, voices and images assaulted the lieutenant from the inside. _Who are you? What's your name? Who are you, what's your name? Who are you? What's yourname? Whoare you? What'syour name?_

If Cyclonus breathed, the air would catch in his throat and down the wrong way. His life traveled backward. Yolthanis. Bare Anches. Cratis. Earth. Mars. Skorponok. Vector Sigma. The Hate Plague. Back and back. Unicron. Megatron. South America. The crashing ship. _Bombshell._

 _He was Bombshell._

 _No. He flew the Bombshell, a prototype PSX 427 jet fighter that exceeded mach 4.2 with the ease of a hydrojet on grease._

 _Forward. Alaska. Mars. Europa. The Lunar War. The Hate Plague. Marla. Stephani. His children, Joshaua, Shotero and Courtney. Pricillia DeMarco._

 _Forward and forward until_ The Rift tore him apart.

Cyclonus fell face down. He felt nothing at first. His mind flashed from one ambiguous memory to another.

 _Stop there. Find your center. Count backward_. _Stop there. Find your center. Find the center of life. Listen. Is that a heartbeat?_ Cyclonus thought his body melted into the ship's metal flooring.

 _What is this? What is this?_

"What is this?" he weakly muttered aloud. His own voice brought the Decepticon back to consciousness.

" _Cyclonus!"_ Initially the voice rang clear and foreign, almost as if speaking another language. Rough warm hands gripped his cold body and manhandled him to sit. Cyclonus' head drooped as if someone shut him off.

" _Hey. Cyclonus?"_

His weak optics adjusted and by means of the soft emergency lighting, he gazed at a shape. A set of red optics glowed from a human's face.

" _I would never have found you had you not been talking to yourself."_

"I wasss...ssspeaking?" he slurred.

" _Yes. Up. Can you stand?"_

"Who are you?"

" _Who do you think I am?"_ the other person snapped.

"I don't know. There was a light and I was flying and there was a light and... why do I feel strange?"

" _You just asked the same thing twice. Are you certain you are alright?"_

"No. Something happened to me."

" _Yes. You're cursed. We're both flesh creatures."_

That struck a chord of familiarity. Wait. "Galvatron?" Before getting an answer, the other man hauled him to his feet.

"Whom else?" the former Decepticon leader snarled.

Cyclonus' head swirled like a spinning top and stopped at the last event on Yolthanis III; the fight with the Paratrons and the Mozart's slow fade out of reality. "What happened?"

"I don't know and I have no time to theorize. I have to get back to Rodimus Prime before something else goes wrong!"

Disoriented, Cyclonus half walked, half stumbled beside Galvatron. He collided against his commander and would have sent them both to the floor were it not for Galvatron's sturdy sure-footedness.

"Whoa, there, Old Friend!" Galvatron half laughed. "Are you certain your gyros are aligned properly? Were you drinking something naughty?"

"I don't think I have any, Galvatron." Cyclonus replied gravely. He drew several breaths as Galvatron held his shoulders. A short wave of dizziness passed over his optics until Cyclonus recognized Galvatron's red optic sensors. "Galvatron, what the Pitt happened to us?"

"Someone has turned us into Liliputians. _Naked_ Liliputians!" Galvatron hissed. "Rodimus is wounded and I must get him to medbay." Cyclonus radiated confusion but Galvatron did not have either time or patience to translate. They back-tracked a forty-minute walk, guided by frozen Autobots, unconscious Humans and the occasional emergency light. Cyclonus failed to appreciate the names Galvatron gave to each unconscious or frozen 'guidepost' he used to mark the trail. Even 'Rip Van Weeney' failed to penetrate Cyclonus' state of confusion. By the time they reached the turbolift and a comatose Rodimus Prime, Cyclonus' head cleared but a nagging headache softly throbbed at the back of his skull.

"Cyclonus," Galvatron said softly but firmly, "we must retrieve our dignity and find out what's going on."

"What of the Autobot, Galvatron? What happened to Rodimus Prime?"

"Right! Where were we before this happened? Oh, he was ambushed by a pair of wannabe Decepticons."

"Wannabe?" Cyclonus echoed.

"I'll carry him. You fly ahead." Galvatron paused a breath when he realized what he said. Then: "Dammit! We'll be walking all over the ship with dangly parts swinging everywhere!"

"Perhaps, Galvatron, the first thing we need is better lighting. As I recall, there are control access panels for Humans at every corridor conjunction."

"You always were the smart one, Cyclonus," Galvatron grunted. "I'll take Rodimus. You lead."

Cyclonus waited until Galvatron secured Rodimus over his shoulder. The lieutenant proceeded with an occasional backward glance, meeting his friend's bright red optics. They walked until Cyclonus found the left wall. From there, the Decepticons traveled until the corridor offered a left turn.

"Here," Cyclonus announced. Galvatron waited wordless while his companion searched for the assumed panel. And he waited. Cyclonus patted the wall back and forth, up and down. And the minutes drifted. And Galvatron turned impatient.

"Cyclonus, let's keep moving."

"Wait. I know there's one here."

Galvatron scowled and slumped against the wall. He jumped away when he heard a _crack_. "Oh! Sorry, Rodimus."

"You're going to kill him," Cyclonus warned.

"A cracked cranium never killed anyone. Hurry up before he widdles on me!"

Cyclonus paused then decided it was not the right moment to call Galvatron on his choice of words. "Here it is," he declared a moment later.

"Wait," Galvatron called, "How can you see the panel to activate the lights if there's no lights to see? What if you flip the wrong switch?" Emergency blue lighting showered the corridor and Galvatron read the smile on his friend's face.

The control panel allowed Cyclonus to open seven doors down the left hall. They passed three Autobots suspended in time. Galvatron found it eerie, as if something turned the Sagittarian Mozart into a tomb.

The first room: janitorial supplies. Cyclonus closed the door as fast as he opened it.

The room after that: Medbay, Lab 4. Everything towered far above them. Tables, chairs, equipment... they were strangers in their own 'home realm'. Galvatron unloaded Rodimus like a bag of clothing and Rodimus' head hit the floor harder than the Decepticon intended. "Damn. Sorry, Rodimus." He stood straight and raised his optics. "How do we get into these predicaments?" he shouted. "And how come you and Rodimus have hair on your heads and I do not?" he glared when Cyclonus merely shrugged.

They snooped about like a pair of glitch mice. Lab techs, nurses and Autobot patients loomed above them like metallic gods. Galvatron almost hit his face against a frozen Bumblebee. Even a small thing like him stood so high, Galvatron could not make out the lines of the Autobot's face. With a squint of his right optic, Galvatron climbed up Shorty and leapt to the nearby counter top. "Have you found anything useful, Cyclonus?" he called.

"A Human maintenance worker with clothes and a flashlight, Galvatron."

"That's good," the former Decepticon leader tried to see by the dim blue light. Flasks, digipads, a small cube of energon met his cursory glance. The lab tech's datatablet and pointer lay on the other side of a centrifuge. The center table at the left supported a microscope surrounded by vials and a female humanoid lay unconscious nearby.

Frustrated, Galvatron climbed back down and met with his companion. "Those clothes look weird on you, Cyclonus."

"They're overalls, I believe."

"Tear off the sleeves. We'll use them to wrap Rodimus' leg. It's still bleeding."

"How long, Galvatron, do you think he'll remain unconscious?'

"Are you kidding me? I banged his head twice. Not on purpose." Galvatron bounded Roddi's wounded leg while Cyclonus slipped back into the overalls. "There!" Galvatron sounded pleased with himself. "Cyclonus, you'll have to lead so I'll know to hide Rodimus should anyone come by."

Cyclonus suddenly found the flashlight of great interest. He knew no one would see Rodimus first, but Galvatron- _all_ of Galvatron. The Decepticon lieutenant kept his eyes on the new toy as his friend hauled Rodimus back over his left shoulder.

The next room assaulted their humanoid noses with stronger cleaning fluids, dirty filters, old mop water, old oil and soured ammonia. They could not walk fast enough.

The next opened door waited for them two hundred yards away. Galvatron wearily laid Rodimus on the floor against the wall while Cyclonus ventured in. Rodimus' leg stopped bleeding but Galvatron worried about infection. _What an awkward situation_ , he thought.

"There's nothing in here, Galvatron," Cyclonus reported. "Broken equipment, damaged tools and so on."

Galvatron wiped his face with both hands. "Do you think I'll grow a beard?"

To Galvatron's relief, Rodimus moaned and sounded as if he were dying. He moved and hissed inward. "Primus, I hope not." his voice cracked with pain. He sat up and gazed at two unfamiliar humans. "Why are you naked?" The grimace on his face dropped and his bright blue eyes flared. "No." Rodimus checked his hands. "NO." he looked at Galvatron's nervous smile and Roddi dropped his jaw in horror. "No!" he repeated. "This is not happening! This is... this is some horrible dream left over from the Virus, isn't it? Yeah! Yeah, that's it!" he stood and pain zapped from the wounded leg to his middle.

Galvatron caught the Autobot leader before Rodimus face-planted. "Whoa! Ha, ha! Whoa there. Can't transform, can't run off, cannot 'pass Go.'" Roddi trembled as with shock and Galvatron heard him whisper something about nudity. "We all woke like this, Rodimus. I mean, you, me and he."

Prime raised his gaze above Galvatron's eyes. "You don't have any hair on your head."

"Expanding consciousness. Rodimus, we tried to get you to medbay. But the tables won't fit you and no one else can come to our aid."

Rodimus muttered something intelligible while he stared at Galvatron first then Cyclonus. "Who dressed you?" he asked. Back to Galvatron: "Duh, Galvatron, did you know we have a comm system?" Galvatron gripped Roddi's chin and lifted his head toward the lightless ceiling. He turned the Autobot's head this way so Rodimus might see a frozen Autobot lying nearby, then another direction where the blue light ended. "Yeah," Roddi said with a muffled voice, "okay. The store is closed and nobody's working." Galvatron released him and Prime worked his jaw. "So... what's with the E-lights? Malfunction?"

Cyclonus pointed the flashlight toward the distant end of the corridor. "I remembered Human-sized access panels."

Rodimus frowned. "So why didn't you open the panel on the floor?"

Both Decepticons, awkward as a child caught without pants: "Uhhhh..."

'Awkward' became the operative word. Cyclonus led the way and helped Galvatron with a gimpy, cranky Autobot leader. Rodimus hissed as often as he swore until they returned to the corner conjunction.

"Here, Rodimus," Galvatron untangled Roddi's right arm off his shoulders. "This was the first place where I banged your head."

Rodimus' optics smoldered as he sank to the floor. "You're just a jar of jelly beans, aren't you, Galvatron?"

The Decepticon simply smiled in turn and ran a hand over his smooth scalp. He kept watch while Rodimus instructed Cyclonus. The floor panel slid open and the Decepticon tugged out one box after another. Rodimus raided one that contained emergency clothing and another with light armor.

"What size do you wear, Galvatron?"

Galvatron stepped around so that Rodimus had full view and framed his gonads with his hands: "Whatever fits _this_. Because _he_ is not happy and I am not happy." that earned him a smirk from Cyclonus.

Rodimus dropped his head and waved a hand to block the sight. "Not-not something I need to see, Galvatron. Here. Try this." he tossed a pair of fatigues hoping to Primus they'd fit. Rodimus found a pair that fit himself then he sighed short and hard. "Sorry, Cyclonus. There's just two sets of clothing here, large and extra-large plus light armor."

"Not working," Galvatron announced. "Doesn't fit."

"They're extra-large, Galvatron."

"I'm telling you, Little G can't get in!"

Rodimus shook his head in exasperated disbelief when Galvatron turned about to prove the fatigues failed to rise above his hips."

"I'll take them," Cyclonus offered.

"NO," Roddi objected. He pointed a finger at Galvatron, "you are NOT going full-frontal!"

Galvatron stripped off the fatigues, borrowed Cyclonus' flashlight and read the label. "Medium. The tag says 'medium,' Rodimus. Do I look like a Twizzler to you?"

"That can't be right." Rodimus eyed the clothing with doubt. "Optimus and Magnus and I all made sure the orders were correct; we triple-checked the lists."

Galvatron wadded the fatigues and threw them at Roddi. "Consider this a masculine revolution. Little G will be free a while longer!"

Rodimus scrambled to examine the tag himself then stared aimlessly, befuddled by the hapless situation. "This isn't possible."

Cyclonus secured himself in the large-size T-shirt, fatigues, jacket and light armor. "Until recently, it was not possible to travel along the light frequencies of a pulsar. Yet, here we are." He clasped a heavy belt about his hips with a thigh holster and tugged on a pair of short steel-toed boots.

Rodimus caught Galvatron's expression: not a jeering smile but expectation. "What?" Roddi snapped. "I can't fit them either. One size _stays_ that size, armor to underwear."

Galvatron grinned and again pointed at Roddi. "Then you too, can join the masculine revolution! Revel in the freedom of cool breezes while everyone goes out of their way to avoid you!"

Rodimus, not quite amused: "Primus well and truly hates me."

-INCLINATION-

The thick sound-resistant dark smothered Magnus so that he asked himself whether or not he was conscious. The uncomfortable floor pushed against him with a chilling temperature. All Magnus had to do was move one extremity to fully conclude his situation turned from inconvenient to alarming. "What the hell?" He sat up, took a bodily inventory then sat stunned. "Son of a bitch. As if once wasn't enough! Wake up, Strike Back. And don't you _dare_ try anything stupid." Pause. "NOW, Strike Back!"

Empty sound followed empty air when Magnus reached for his prisoner.

"Dammit!" he shouted. Squishy _and_ short. The Major-general stood and played a game of one: Blindman's Bluff. Hands outstretched, he walked in one direction until a surface met his fingers. Go slow, don't trip over anything. He chose to move left until the metal surface vanished. Stay calm, keep going.

That 'going' kept going while Magnus found one shape then another, sometimes they conjoined and other times the surfaces ended abruptly. When Magnus tripped over an object on the floor, he finally concluded he was groping Strike Back.

Magnus grimaced and tried to ignore the implications.

Think this through. Magnus searched his memory: how did he and Strike Back end in the turbolift? Magnus was going to throw Strike Back into the brig; literally. Once he dragged the rebellious Paratron onboard, he shoved Strike Back into the turbolift.

Magnus back-tracked to Strike Back's southernmost end. A few feet from there, the Autobot commander bumped into the elevator doors. Progress: slow but good. Trailing to the right, Magnus followed the door to the Human-sized control panel. Naturally the panel stayed closed until the operator used voice command. Why didn't he think of that earlier? Magnus stuck the panel with his fist. Bad planning. Of course, neither he nor either Prime expected to end up this size.

"Wait," he said aloud, "the latch. Where's the latch?" Magnus' large fingers traced around the panel before he found the little flip-door and the manual key within. He smiled at the key he could not see. "Always prepared."

The panel obeyed the key and Magnus fingered his way around while recalling what was there and what was not. Manual override, a catch release, emergency lighting and... freedom! The elevator responded by means of a small door opening into the immediate corridor.

Magnus had to admit that Rodimus was right: emergency manual doors and panels were good luck. "Now," he declared to no one, "I'm going to find out what happened to my ship."

-INCLINATION-

Daniel awoke with the god of all headaches pounding his brain. He activated his exosuit and turned on the emergency oxygen. The pain subsided to a low roar and he popped his neck.

Wait. Why was it dark?

"Hello?" he called. "Chalk-Talk? What's with the lights?" Pause. "HEY! I KNOW SOMEONE HAS TO WATCH ME AT ALL TIMES, SMELTHEAD! ANSWER ME!"

Nothing. Just he and the dark. Spitting another foul word then two, Daniel reached for his tea cup and threw it at the energon bars. He gasped when it dawned on him that nothing stood between him and outside his cell. "Hello?" he repeated more cautiously. "Chalk-Talk? Chalk-Talk you there? Cha-a-a-lk-Talk." Daniel dared to cross the threshold. "Chalk-Talk?" Witwicky activated the suit's shoulder-mounted lighting and found his guard frozen against the wall where he sat still as a statue. At first Daniel stared, expecting the Autobot to leap to life and accuse him of an escape attempt. When that did not happen, Daniel crept closer and touched the robotic life form. Then he punched said life form. Nothing.

Daniel yelled and pounded and kicked the guard until an idea came to him. First he scratched his name into Chalk-Talk's left leg, then the right. And because he knew how and had the opportunity to do so, Daniel dismembered the Autobot's hands and feet. An hour later, just to be spiteful, Daniel nicked a fuel line so that Chalk-Talk slowly bled to death.

"There you are, Arcee," he said, satisfied with his work. "You should never have made me do these things."

Daniel whistled cheerfully while he opened the emergency manual door. With a salute to Chalk-Talk, Witwicky escaped in search of trouble.

-INCLINATION-

Rusti awoke in the familiar territory of pain and a lightless world. She sat up, cringed, rolled right to stand, got to her knees then bowed over. "Ohmigod," she moaned. "I'm going to die." Her legs slid flat and she remained face-down. Her brain drifted from one pointless thought to another. She'd fall back to sleep were the floor more comfortable. Twisting her head to the right, Rusti vaguely wondered why it was so dark. Then she woke a little more and realized it wasn't supposed to be dark. She remembered the fight, she remembered landing hard on her hip and she remembered Magnus, Cyclonus and some message-

"The Mozart," she mumbled. "I'm on the Mozart." A long emptiness followed that as if she were the one and only thing in the universe. Someone told her to get to Cloudstreaker. But Rusti recalled nothing thereafter, nor the reason for going to Cloudstreaker.

Which way was she supposed to go?

"Mozart?" she asked quietly. "Mozart? She laid a hand on the wall and tried to read the Autobot ship. It was like reading a brick wall. Was the Mozart dead? Pushing herself off the floor, Rusti intensified her effort to contact the ship. She glued both hands onto the wall and tried to link up. The ship's computer answered her call but devoid of voice or personality, it merely waited for her to send orders. "Lights," she said in turn. Rusti rolled her eyes when told there was no power. "Emergency lights," she amended.

The environment came alive when long strips along the walls glowed blue. Not perfect, but better.

Choosing to continue toward the bridge, Rusti passed Autobots, aliens and Humans either lying unconscious on the floor or frozen in mid-movement. Something important came to mind: there was a bomb on the bridge.

Rusti ran at first but the deep bruise in her left hip forced her to walk. She pushed herself and ran again, paused to catch her breath and ran again until the ache spread down her leg. The half second she reached the bridge, Rusti dropped to her knees and bowed over. She inhaled hard and coughed. Once the worse pain subsided, she searched for a way in. The weak lighting made it difficult for her to find anything and calling for Cloudstreaker was pointless.

She smacked the fifty-foot double doors with her palms. "Mozart!" she called, "open the damn doors!"

Nope.

Rusti spun about and leaned against them. Oh to have a gun or a bazooka or a cannon!

Think, don't whine about it, she said to herself,. Rusti thought of the ship and the ship's computer. It indicated to her that the engines were offline. No power; like a disconnected battery on a remote control toy car or an unplugged computer.

Rusti stared down the corridor. Emergency lighting cast thick shadows and dim reflections off the walls, the buttresses and three crew members. She closed her eyes and thunked her head against the impenetrable doors. "Come on, Mozart, I know you're not dead." she stretched forth her senses from the doors to the walls, the floor, the ceiling and the blue light.

A whisper of air touched her face and Rusti opened her eyes. From the light panels on the left wall, a shadowy figure emerged, noiseless and graceful. The centaur landed and bowed before approaching her. Rusti instinctively reached to touch his face.

"Don't be upset. I was worried." she turned puzzled when the ship's persona sadly smiled. "Can't you say something?" she caught herself. "Oh, right. You're offline." she pointed to the blue panels. "Oh, you're riding on those, aren't you? Are you hurt?" when the Mozart shook his head, Rusti half-twisted and smacked her right palm against the door. "I have to get in. Cloudstreaker could be in trouble." She read doubt and stress in his eyes and posture. "You HAVE to try!" Rusti insisted. "Use some energy from the lights-" Mozart touched her face and Rusti's eyes fluttered. He spoke to her without a familiar language. It took her several moments to dissect Mozart's communication. It was like 'hearing' music through her fingers but she caught on.

"What? No, no, no, no. I control _impulses_ , not power sources. I can communicate with _algorithms_. That does not mean I can move energy. What did you just call me?" she flinched with surprise when the ethereal centaur dropped his jaw in surprise and stepped back.

Behind her, the doors slid open and the Mozart's persona caught her before Rusti fell backward. A thick dark cloud rolled over the threshold. It exhumed an amalgamated stench of burnt metal, melted wiring and smoldering circuitry.

Within the damaged bridge, a lady's trembling voice betrayed her attempt at bravado. "Who's there? Who's there?" She coughed three times. "Don't come any closer unless you want-*cough*-to eat 25,000 volts!"

Rusti assumed Cloudstreaker was alone on the bridge. She glanced at Mozart who shrugged then nodded. "Cloudstreaker?" she called. "Cloud-"

"Who is that?"

"It's Rusti Witwicky. I was initially told to join you on the bridge."

Cloudy's voice squeaked unnaturally. "The girl? I, I don't think you should come any closer-" she coughed again. "-or maybe you can help me. Primus, what am I saying?"

Rusti wordlessly looked to the Sagittarian Mozart for help and the persona pointed two-fifteen of their location. She inched forward and grimaced at the pungent bitter smoke. "Cloudstreaker, are you okay? You sound upset."

"I don't know what happened to me! I'm small and I don't know what to do!"

Rusti followed Cloudy's weeping voice and found a woman huddled in a corner between the navigation consol and the starboard readouts. White page-boy styled hair accompanied her pale naked skin. She squeezed as tightly into the corner as her form allowed, as if trying to disappear. Rusti removed her shirt and knelt before the lady. "It's okay. Don't be afraid."

The femme raised her head and Rusti silently gasped at her blue eyes as they softly glowed in the dark. The effected created a remarkable alien look. "I'm not okay. I don't know what happened to me! Why would someone do this?"

"I don't know. I didn't know technology like this existed. Can you stand?"

"Y-yes. But-"

"Let's get you up. You can wear my shirt." Rusti helped her stand and slip into the long-tailed shirt. The poor femme looked like a ghost. Rusti took her by the hand stepped twice before Cloudstreaker held her back.

"No, wait!" her large, solid blue eyes reflected terror. "You have to promise not to let Ultra Magnus see me like this. It's embarrassing."

Rusti smiled lightly before stretching her arm across Cloudy's slender shoulders. "I think he'd understand, Cloudstreaker. He's lots of things, but immature isn't necessarily one of them. If it's embarrassment you're worried about, then it's Rodimus you'll want to avoid."

"But I don't lov-I mean, Rodimus doesn't bother me." Cloudstreaker's lips trembled and she hugged herself tightly.

Rusti brought her to the threshold where the centaur stood as a silent guardian. "Okay, Cloudstreaker, you're the officer between us. I'm just a civilian. What's the protocol for a situation like this?" The femme glared at her in horror and Rusti rephrased the question: "The ship is offline and you and I are the only two we know of who are conscious. What's the first thing we need to do?"

"Communications," Cloudy finally answered. We need to see if we can contact anyone else or find a way for them to contact us."

Rusti drew a big nothing as far as ideas went. And for the millionth time, she wondered where her exosuit went.

Cloudstreaker cast her gaze far away. She batted at this tear and that one. "I've never felt helpless like this. It's humiliating. I can't reach the controls, I can't..." she looked down at her body. "I can't handle this. It's not _me_."

"Wait," Rusti said hesitantly, "Captain Littlefield heads the Sunset Kummya. That means-"

"Right!" Cloudy's eyes lit up. "The caches. I'd forgotten all about them."

"The what?'

"The caches. Don't you kn-oh. You're not EDC, so I guess you wouldn't. Let's go look for one.

This time Rusti followed Cloudstreaker.

-INCLINATION-

Daniel whistled Pink Panther as he strolled down one corridor after another. All turbolifts were as useless as the ship's passengers and crew. He viewed the world through the limited vision of his exosuit but none of that bothered Witwicky. He was a free man. Every living person or thing could lie dead and Witwicky would feel the same: he was free to come and go and do whatever pleased him. He even stopped to urinate on a femme.

"Spreading the love!" he declared loudly. "Optimus! O-o-o-optimus! I'm coming for you!" Daniel tucked himself away and continued the stroll, whistling the Star Wars theme.

Two corridors later it occurred to Witwicky that while he may be free, he also had few to no resources. With the Mozart dead, floating in space or wherever else it might be, there was no water readily available. As for food, he supposed cannibalism might be an option. But even Daniel thought that as bottom-of-the-barrel desperate.

The high-pitched sound of an activated laser rifle sang in the air and a strangely familiar voice followed: "Hello, Daniel. I might have guessed you'd find a way out of your cage-DON'T turn around. I far prefer seeing this side of your face."

"So you caught me. Congrats. You gonna kill me or talk me to death?"

"Oh, I can be a little more creative than that, Daniel. I'm not Optimus, but I do know how to make someone else's life miserable enough."

Witwicky scoffed. " _Cock_ -timus Prime. Tell me, _friend_ , how is it that you're running around and no one else is moving?"

"I don't know," Magnus answered deadpan. "But you and I are going to the bridge."

"Oh. Okay." Daniel took one step forward then spun about with a roundhouse kick. To his surprise, the assault was easily deflected and his opponent twisted his foot so that Daniel landed on the floor. The man squatted beside him.

"I know the concept is difficult for you to grasp, Daniel, but I advise you not to mess with me. I _might_ accidently break something."

"Like I fucking care," Witwicky grunted. "Who the fuck are you, anyway?"

"You don't recognize me?"

"Oh, sure! I know who you are now!" Daniel mocked. "You're Monte Canthensen, the retard Insurance salesman. Hey, didn't they shove you into the slammer for human trafficking and raping several little kids?"

Magnus grunted, stood and hauled his prisoner to his feet. "I'll traffic you just for being a smartass."

Daniel's eyes climbed the powerhouse of a male who stood as close to six and a half feet as Witwicky could guess. Built like a brick wall, the man looked as if rockets might bounce off his chest. He wore light armor, a laser rifle with a thigh holster and a 9-millimeter in the pocket. However, the one thing that set the stranger apart from Humans were his eyes. Squared eyes softly glowed solid blue. They looked unnatural. "Who did you say you were again?"

"Move." Magnus ordered.

Daniel turned away and marched forward. He waited ten minutes so as to lure his new babysitter into a false sense of calm. As they turned a corner, Daniel kicked roundhouse to the left and followed through with a second kick to Magnus' middle.

Magnus doubled over, inhaled and speared Daniel with his shoulder. He rammed Witwicky into the wall and deflected another kick. Magnus gifted Daniel with a punch that hit the Human like an anvil. A second strike forced Witwicky to the floor with a bleeding nose and a split lip.

Daniel spit blood and panted. "My god," he huffed, "you fight like Magnus." His eyes lifted as it occurred to him. Witwicky gazed over his shoulder and summed up the person and the situation. "Wait a minute. No way. _Magnus_?" He read the straight-laced glower and when the stranger crossed his arms, Daniel lost it. He laughed and laughed hard. " _No!_ " he squealed. "It can't be true! Can't!" he laughed and laughed again.

"Are you about finished?" Magnus growled.

Daniel wiped tears off his face and a little more blood off his nose. One more look at Magnus, however and Witwicky fell into another fit. "Tell me-ha, ha, Magnus," he drew a deep breath and tried to contain the laughter. "Is that-uh-flash all over or are you missing a few manly parts?"

Magnus yanked Daniel up by the left arm and got into his face. "I don't have time to answer that."

Daniel sniggered before assaulting the Major-general with a sucker punch. Magnus bowed clear over with an _oof!_ Daniel delivered a blow to the diaphragm. Magnus, however, already recovered and snapped his head up. He caught Witwicky by the chin and Daniel staggered back. His exosuit compensated for the moment's lack of balance while Daniel himself batted his eyes against the stars. He did not see Magnus deliver another 'anvil' punch. Daniel staggered again then tumbled from the second punch.

He lost consciousness after Punch Number Three.

-INCLINATION-

Optimus pasted his back to the wall as the deck plates under his humanoid feet vibrated. The angled intruder, though biped, walked like a deer. It took calculating steps, paused to listen then proceeded.

How the holy Pitt did an Inoux find them? How? And how was it that the Inoux remained in its original form and height while Prime's own body changed? More importantly, how was he going to solve this not-so-little problem?

Prime peered round the corner just as the Inoux vanished into the dark. Only a few sections of the Mozart produced emergency lighting and Optimus tried to figure out why. Yes, the computer was offline. The engines were cold with inactivity and the power crystals hummed with reduced frequencies. In other words, wherever the Mozart landed, the ship landed depleted of energy and out of tachyon synchronization.

And to think he believed their situation was improving!

Concluding it wiser to get to the bridge, Optimus chose a different route. He hoped the Inoux was alone. Optimus found his way to the nearest cross-section and entered the maintenance step well. He climbed two decks before resting. He crouched against the wall and listened. The soundless world still breathed with life energy but it lay dormant. Was he the only one in the predicament? What of Rusti? Was she still on Yolthanis? Optimus hoped so; all the greater a reason to keep going.

"I suppose at some point we'll actually reach Mechlatex," he thought. What of the Paratrons? Optimus had no other choice at this point. Strike Back left him no choice. He and everyone who participated in the attempted coup will have to be exiled.

The Autobot leader continued his journey. Every then and again Prime swore he heard a distant _tik-tik_ and it sounded like it followed him. As soon as he stopped walking, however, the noise stopped and he did not hear it again until the next cross-section.

This time Optimus slipped into the maintenance step well and waited. After several breaths, he reached for manual access controls, counted four toggle switches to the far right and flipped the last one. He opened the door just a crack and found the corridor outside the step well lit with emergency lights. On the far side of the corridor a long shape with sharp right angles crawled along the wall as if it were an insect. When it reached the cross-section, it leaped with a _tik-tik_ and continued on the same trajectory.

Optimus closed the door. How did the Inoux know where to find him? Prime took to the ladder, counted seven steps then tugged a latch on either side of the rungs. The next four rungs retracted and revealed a crawl space that ran between decks. It left very little room to move through. Optimus crawled the length of two corridors before emerging into another step well. He rested a moment. The crawl space was too small for him; too close like a burial vault.

He climbed seven rungs down and touched the landing on the main floor. He flipped on the emergency lights and proceeded to the bridge.

-INCLINATION-

Rodimus emerged from the step well leading from Medbay to the main deck. He dropped to one knee then lay face down. "Oh, baby, I'm so happy to see you!"

"There's nothing to see," Cyclonus corrected.

Rodimus softly pounded his forehead on the floor and laced fingers across the back of his head. "I am _never_ going to hang around the two of you ever again."

Galvatron closed the door behind himself. "I'm assuming we're at another conjunction," he said.

"Yes," Rodimus mumbled against the floor.

"Then let's look into another compartment."

Rodimus moaned. "Thirteen, Galvatron. Thirteen compartments and not _one_ of them had anything to fit your bloated aft."

Galvatron crouched before the prone Prime and clicked his tongue. "You simply do not appreciate a good thing when you see it."

Rodimus lifted his head and glared through the dark. "See it?" he repeated. "See it?!" He got up on hands and knees. "You are the _last_ thing I want to see! No, scratch that, you are the _one thing_ I don't want to see-you and your hairless egg!"

Galvatron remained irritatingly cool. "Jealousy over my good looks is not improving the situation, Rodimus."

All three looked up when the emergency lights snapped on.

"Someone must be on the bridge," Rodimus deduced.

"Yes," Galvatron answered. "Cloudstreaker. As far as I know, she was..."

"There was a bomb on the bridge," Cyclonus announced.

"Shit!" Rodimus tried to stand. "Help me up. We need to go!"

-INCLINATION-

Daniel awoke with aching misery. Magnus dragged him along the floor like some little child's blanket. His left eye burned. His jaws ached and his tongue reported two broken teeth. Witwicky wondered momentarily if Magnus had his way would he have murdered him or just busted every bone in his body. Convinced of the latter, Daniel frowned then grunted with surprise when Magnus dropped him like a flat tire. "Hey!" Witwicky whined. "You don't have to be such an ass!"

"Shut up, Daniel," the Major-general growled. "Be grateful I didn't shove you into an airlock or jettison you out a torpedo tube."

"You don't have the balls for that," Daniel sneered.

Magnus jammed the .9 mil against Witwicky's exposed throat. "You'd rather I end your life right this second, Daniel? Would you? I would not mind splattering your brain matter all over my ship if it meant not dealing with you another micron."

Daniel swallowed against the gun barrel. "I suppose I enjoy breathing."

"Oh, good answer, Daniel!" Magnus mocked. "Now get up and start walking." Magnus stormed ahead while Daniel's eyes darted around them. "Are we on the main deck?"

"Yes."

"Why is the ship dead, Magnus?"

"We're going to find out, Daniel."

They approached the open doors and an EDC-issue Taurus .229 appeared round the door frame.

"I better hear a familiar voice or name."

Magnus blinked. "Rusti?"

"Good enough." The gun lowered and Rusti emerged into the light. She started to say something when confusion stole her words.

"It's Ultra Magnus, Rusti," He watched her attempt to say something while her eyes panned between he and her father. "I don't know what happened," the Major-general continued. "Are you alright?"

"Yes," Rusti answered on automatic. "I came here, well, I was on my way here. I was told to stay with Cloudstreaker. By the way, _Daddy_ , we found your bomb."

Magnus grabbed Daniel by the neck of the suit and prepared to punch him again. "You planted a bomb on my ship?!"

"I didn't plant nothing!" Daniel hotly replied. "I just did the design work. Your precious Paratrons did the rest." Daniel sneered at Rusti. "How do you know it's mine, anyway?"

"Your name was on it."

Magnus shoved Witwicky aside. "Where's the bomb? Where is it?!"

"What's left of it is around navigation," Rusti answered calmly. "Cloudstreaker's looking at it."

Magnus inched his face into Rusti's. "Stay with him." He stomped off, venting his anger and impatience with each step.

Daniel smiled in spite of his bruised and swollen face. "Resonna-"

"Don't talk to me." Rusti snapped.

He ignored her: "I was going to compliment you on your choice of clothing. And how did you get your hands on such a lovely weapon?"

Rusti feigned ignorance. "What? This little thing?"

Daniel's smile held while he measured her physic and what it would take to overpower her. Rusti wore the same light armor, vest and shirt as Magnus except she wore jeans. The utility belt about her hips contained ammunition and a dagger. "So tell me, Sweetie, where did you learn to use it?"

Rusti dipped her head to the right and pulled the trigger. Daniel's suit sizzled with a short-out and down he dropped.

Magnus' voice carried too well across the room: "What the hell's going on over there?!"

"Nothing," Rusti sang.

Magnus huffed. "Yeah, I'll bet," he grumbled. "Here," he said to Cloudstreaker, "let me help with that." Together they yanked off a plastic cover warped and mutilated by the explosion. Cloudy peered inside with a small maglight.

"What are you looking for?" Magnus asked. He could not keep his eyes off her white hair. She also had the cutest nose-

"I want to make sure the device is dead," she said without looking at him. Cloudstreaker tried to climb into the wreckage but height held her back.

"Can I help you with that?" Magnus offered.

"With what?" she snaked her head back out.

"You looked like you needed to climb in."

"Oh. Yes. Did you want to take a look at it?"

"I don't read energy flares, Cloudstreaker. But I can help you in."

He said her name. Cloudy's cheeks burned slightly. When he first approached her, Cloudstreaker was greatly relieved she was not the only Autobot in the current state of physical diminishment. She had nothing to be ashamed of.

To her surprise, Magnus crouched on hands and knees like a Human step ladder.

"Thank you, Commander," she said softly. The femme carefully climbed over his back, scrambled over the ledge and into the broken bomb casing. Magnus stood and watched as she toed over and around the bomb's charred innards.

"Be careful, Cloudstreaker," he said. "There might be a radiation leak somewhere."

Cloudy wanted to thank him for his consideration. But she forced her emotions under control and concentrated on the job. She touched blackened, fried wiring to her left then laid her hand on a chunk of melted parts to determine the heat ratio. Cloudstreaker shook her head. "It's cold, Commander," she reported.

Magnus nodded. "I figured, since it already went off."

Returning to the opening, Cloudy crouched, reading his eyes. "I needed to make sure there was not a second fuse. Daniel Witwicky and I have been..." she picked out her words like nails from a tire. "Adversaries. I had no idea he was as smart as he is. I can't trust him to be civilized on any level." She read concern in his features. With a tight smile, she dangled her legs over the entrance and tried to land gracefully. Magnus caught her as she dropped and Cloudy thought her core froze. She smiled sheepishly. "Thank you."

Magnus offered her a curt nod then pointed his thumb toward the bridge entrance. "Let's go find out what's going on over there."

Rusti lifted her chin in defiance when Magnus and Cloudstreaker rejoined her.

"What the hell?" Magnus repeated.

"He's not dead," Rusti answered innocently. "I just stunned him, that's all"

"You could have killed him!"

She drilled holes into Magnus with her eyes. "Even if I did, he wouldn't be missed. You know that."

"Revenge is a good road with a broken bridge, Rusti."

"It wasn't revenge! My finger just slipped."

The rhythm of feet and boots approaching caught their attention. Magnus, Rusti and Cloudstreaker came face to face with one humanoid male in red hair, another in dark hair and fully dressed and a third with no hair at all. Rusti again raised the Taurus .229.

Rodimus held up his hands: "whoa there, girl! It's just me, Mister Spock and Laughing Boy."

"Rodimus?" Rusti and Magnus echoed. Magnus pushed Rusti's gun down. "I can't believe this," He said. "How did this happen? Why aren't all the Autobots changed? And, erm, which of you two is Galvatron?"

"That would be me," the bald one grinned. "With a complete package!" and he framed himself.

Rusti and Cyclonus face-palmed. Cloudy looked away.

Magnus gazed from Galvatron to Roddi. "Why are the two of you running around naked on my ship?"

"We couldn't find anything in the compartments that fit. Cyclonus here is a large. The other size was a medium. I see you found something." Roddi's scowl was evident even in the emergency lighting.

Magnus planted his hand on hips. "Uh, the _false bottom_ , Rodimus?"

"The what?"

"The _false bottom_ , remember? It's where we stored extra rations, ammo, the Taurus rifles and the extra-sized clothing."

Rodimus: "Oh. Uhh..."

Cyclonus pushed the awkward moment aside. "Why is Daniel Witwicky lying on the floor?"

Rusti: "Slip of the finger."

"Alright," Magnus carried on, "first, YOU," he pointed to Rodimus, "Get some clothes on and something for him. Cloudstreaker and I will try to get the ship's lighting and oxygen flowing. Rusti, you and Cyclonus keep watch.

Cyclonus rounded Rodimus. "Are you sure you want to leave these two alone by themselves?"

"Do you think I care whether or not they kill each other?" Magnus countered. Cyclonus shrugged, Magnus nodded and all six separated.

Cyclonus and Rusti stayed silent for a long time. They heard Magnus and Cloudstreaker's conversation from the dais on which sat the captain's chair. Daniel remained unmoved and Rusti finally had to ask:

"I'll bet it's really strange for you, Cyclonus. I mean, not just small but organic."

At first the Decepticon lieutenant said nothing then his deep, steady voice aired between them. "It's not as different as you might think, Rusti. There are details that are different, certainly."

Rusti's main focus tracked one thing: "Your eyes. They're not Human at all."

To her surprise, he smiled. "Thank you."

The ship's lighting flickered twice then came alive. Rusti smiled with relief then rolled her eyes when Daniel moaned as he regained consciousness.

With a hand over his face, Witwicky slowly sat on his knees. "That hurt," he complained. Upon seeing Cyclonus first then Rusti, his eyes turned hard. "Did you just shoot me, you little bitch?"

Taking a cue from Cyclonus, Rusti chose to say nothing.

Daniel hissed inward and sandwiched his head between his hands. "Fucking damn."

Cyclonus: "I'm assuming he often uses colorful, uncouth language."

"Very often," Rusti quietly concurred.

Daniel sneered. "What is this? The two of you playing psychiatrist?" He clasped his hands together and crawled prayerfully toward Rusti. "Oh please," he mocked, "I need someone to talk to. I need medicine."

Cyclonus stepped between father and daughter with the laser rifle resting against Witwicky's forehead. "Don't."

Daniel projected hate. "Which pile of clown shit are you?"

If Cyclonus planned to answer, he did not get the chance before Rodimus and Galvatron arrived, clothed and armed. Galvatron handed Cyclonus a canteen of water then bent over and peered around Daniel's face. "Hello, Danny. Nice to see you on your knees."

Daniel grabbed Galvatron round the neck, attempting to drag him down. But the Decepticon merely laughed even as Rodimus drew his rifle. Galvatron stood straight while Daniel dangled from round his neck like a child.

"Why, Danny," Galvatron taunted, "what an incredibly stupid move you just made!" He licked Daniel from lips to nose. Daniel cried out, horrified and dropped one and a half feet before landing on his ass. Galvatron grinned and leered. "Cyclonus," he said, "if I end up with some weird disease, be sure to put the dog down and get me to the infirmary."

" _There you are!_ " All eyes turned right as Optimus approached, smiling with relief. He gazed at Roddi first. "Hello, Rodimus," He said warmly. "And Daniel, why are you out of your room?" Then he saw _her_. Sweet locks of red hair tied back. Freckles sprinkled her nose and her fair, touchable skin. "Hello, Rusti."

Her heart stopped beating, her lungs stopped breathing. She stood before a god, perfect from deep dark hair to the magnificently chiseled body and _that voice_. All Rusti's blood rushed to her head and she passed out.

All the males watched her hit the floor.

Galvatron, naturally, said something first. "How come no one's ever done that for me?"

Cyclonus folded his arms. "You're not Optimus Prime."

Magnus and Cloudstreaker joined the group. Optimus picked up his wife and held her until Rusti caught her breath and opened her eyes. "I'm sorry," he whispered. She half gasped for air, half laughed and leaned against him for support.

Magnus bounced a four-sided wrench in his palm. "Has anyone here seen anyone else either conscious or in this other state of existence?"

Rodimus pointed to his Decepticon companions. "Just these two freeloaders."

Magnus frowned. "I've only encountered Daniel. Prime?"

"Hm?" Optimus tore his attention off the woman in his arms to the situation on hand. "Oh. No. I've seen no one else. However," here he released one arm from around Rusti to face the others. "Our situation has turned even more complicated. An Inoux followed me around Deck Five."

"Oh, Primus!" Cloudstreaker covered her mouth.

"Just one?" Rodimus asked.

"Yes. And unfortunately, he's not 'Barbie-doll' size."

Magnus turned grim. "Which type was it?"

"Assassin."

Rodimus dropped his head in thought. Magnus lapped his arms over one another. Cyclonus supported his right elbow with the left hand and fingered his chin. Cloudstreaker hunched her shoulders. Optimus lifted his gaze to the furthermost wall and Galvatron stared nowhere to his right.

Dead quiet circulated between them and Witwicky squirmed with uneasiness.

Magnus broke the silence. "Alright. First thing we need to do is isolate the Inoux."

Optimus shook his head. "They travel through the shadows, Magnus."

"Then we can isolate ourselves on the bridge."

Optimus nodded.

Roddi took his turn. "We need to find out were we are."

"Or when," Cloudy added. She blushed when too many eyes pinned her.

Cyclonus joined in: "We should attempt to communicate both via radio and subspace frequencies."

"Um..." Cloudy tried to come out of her shell. "I think we need to realign the ship to match the tachyon frequencies. We might not be in another universe, but traveling across space itself would throw anything out of alignment."

"Good idea," Rodimus praised. Then both he and Optimus chorused: "but we're a little short for the job." Roddi shrugged when everyone else stared at them.

"We could build exosuits," Cloudy suggested. "I mean, I know we _have_ exosuits but again, they'd have to be realigned."

Galvatron finally spoke up. "Realigning the tachyon structure for anything is a long and delicate process. Even the Quintessons found it difficult."

Rodimus nodded. "That explains why the time window in 2006 was so unstable."

"Precisely," the Decepticon agreed. "And we do not have Perceptor among us."

Magnus laid a hand on Cloudstreaker's shoulder and she blushed. "No," the Major-general concurred, "But we have Cloudy." He paused abruptly and looked to her. "Can I call you 'Cloudy'?"

The group agreed that Rodimus, Magnus, Optimus and Galvatron should scavenge the ship for parts of the new exosuits. Cyclonus and Cloudstreaker remained on the bridge with Rusti and Daniel.

The Autobot femme and Decepticon spent hours carefully disassembled two scanners and laser equipment.

"I don't see how that's going to help," Daniel remarked sourly.

"We're just getting the scanners set up enough to read the ship's lighting," Cloudy answered.

"And that helps how?"

She glanced at Daniel and wished she had not. "Light exists in every dimension. Unlike sound, it has an unlimited number of frequencies and exists even in the mono-dimensional plane."

Daniel frowned and dragged his eyes to his estranged daughter who sat against a consol apart from the group. "Hey," he called, "shouldn't you be helping out?"

"Shouldn't you shut your mouth?" she snapped back.

"Don't talk to me like that," Daniel snarled. "I am still your father!"

"I emancipated," Rusti returned.

A smirk escaped Cloudy and she smiled as she worked.

Daniel glared at her in disgust. "You think that's funny?"

"Leave her alone," Rusti snapped."

"Quiet!" Cyclonus ordered. "All of you!" He stopped working and tilted his head left then raised his eyes toward the bridge's ceiling. A distant tap trickled through the ship's metal plating.

Cloudstreaker gasped and reached for another tool. "I guess we need to work faster."

Cyclonus laid a hand on hers. "No. Stay steady. We cannot afford to make mistakes."

They worked for an untold number of hours until Daniel complained of starvation. Cloudy unpacked a small box of energy bars and Daniel threw them at her face.

"Hey!" Rusti shouted, "that was uncalled for!"

Daniel made several rude gestures and spit several four-letter words in succession: "You, you and you!" he pointed at each person in turn. "I happen to know they have _real_ meals around here and THAT'S what I want!"

Rusti stood and her eyes darkened with simmering anger. "You are such a _sli'kikik._ Cloudstreaker did not have to give anything to you. None of us owes you anything."

"I am a Human being," Witwicky seethed. "THAT'S what you owe me!" Cyclonus stared at him with an eerie calm and Daniel sneered at him. "What?!"

"When you decide to act like Human being, we will feed you."

Daniel pointed to the bars. "I am not eating shit!"

"We were told to watch you, not cater to your tantrums." Cyclonus turned back to the scanner. Daniel tried to push his temper, testing the Decepticon lieutenant's patience. When Cyclonus did not react to anything, Daniel finally sat down and sulked. Rusti marveled At Cyclonus' patience and ability to concentrate in spite of Daniel's rants.

Hour by hour the bridge turned quiet as a vacant library. Rusti drew a deep breath and realized she fell asleep. She did not see Cloudstreaker. Rusti quietly searched the bridge and all its corners including the lavatory. Then it dawned on her: Daniel was gone, too.

"Cyclonus," she gently patted the sleeping Decepticon's shoulder. He sat up, alert and attentive. "They're gone," she reported. "Cloudstreaker-"

"Missing?"

She nodded and when Cyclonus re-latched his vest and picked up the laser rifle, she did the same.

"Do not leave the bridge, Rusti," he said. "Cloudstreaker may yet return."

"If she's with him, she could be in serious trouble." Rusti expected an answer but Cyclonus only stared at her until she conceded. "I'll wait here for the others."

He nodded and left Rusti alone on the bridge. She paced restlessly, worried over what Daniel might do to Cloudstreaker. The femme was more scientist and technician than solder and maybe that was why Rusti liked her. Goodness she was shy!

Rusti stopped pacing and leaned against the dias. The Sagittarian Mozart sat quiet but he registered sunlight and plant life outside. She silently asked about oxygen content but since the ship was not a computer itself, he did not understand the question. It was like asking a child about the ingredients of ice cream.

 _What about the Inoux?_ She asked. _Can you sense an intruder?_

There was. The Mozart indicated the intruder appeared to search for an exit. Rusti's brows scrunched, perplexed. Why was their enemy looking for a way off the ship rather than go on a killing spree?

Rusti smacked herself upside the head. "Ohmigod, am I stupid!" she said out loud. "Mozart, can you locate my demonic father and Cloudstreaker?" she waited a few moments. The Mozart's lack of energy made his response difficult and slow, since the ship's internal sensors, like skin on an organic, depended strictly on the emergency lighting. That, too, presented a problem since not all areas of the Mozart were lit.

 _DECK 2. AIR SHAFT 320-G._

Where the hell was that supposed to be?

"Rusti?" Roddi's welcomed voice filled her with relief. "I came to get... where's Cyclonus?" he paused then, "where is everyone?"

-INCLINATION-

Roddi and Rusti joined the other mechs as they disassembled parts of a turbolift, fixtures inside the ceiling above and components from a nearby conference room. Rusti was amazed at their growing collection. But then, Optimus, Roddi and Magnus knew the ship upside-out. She noticed, too, they jury-rigged several pieces of equipment to handle large sheets of metal or heavy, awkwardly shaped parts.

Optimus approached first. He wore a T-shirt slightly too small for his frame. He wiped oil off his large hands then toweled sweat off his forehead.

"Daniel's gone," Rodimus grimly reported. "Cloudstreaker is missing and Cyclonus left to find them."

"Mm." Optimus dropped his gaze from Roddi to Rusti and the slightest of smiles touched his lips. "When all is said and done," he said to her, "I am taking you on a vacation." Rusti smiled in turn and a warm, yummy feeling rose in her stomach. She said nothing, however, knowing the moment was not exactly perfect for a loving, teasing conversation. Well, that and she did not want to appear an idiot in front of Rodimus.

Rusti waited while Rodimus reiterated what the ship told her. Optimus gathered the guys together, repeated the news and redressed. Rusti picked up his cast-off T-shirt before catching up.

Magnus inspected the air conduit the second they found Air Shaft 320-G. He traced the melted and blackened outer edges with his thumb then turned to his companions. "It looks as if he opened this with a laser torch, perhaps something he added to his exosuit."

Rodimus frowned. "Okay. Galvatron, you and Cyclonus search between six-and-nine of our location. I'll take Rusti-" here he glanced at the Senior Prime-"And we'll go three-to-six. Op, you and Mags can cover nine-to-three."

"I'd rather that Rusti stays here," Optimus suggested.

"Optimus," she annunciated slowly, "I know you're trying to protect me and that you'll argue that someone needs to stay with the Mozart. But the fact is, you are not big, bad and mechanical anymore. You are _my_ size. So, everybody does the buddy-system. Even you, Magnus and Galvatron."

Rodimus folded his arms. "Well, I guess I don't need one-"

Rusti shook her finger at him without looking in his direction: "you need one by _default_ , Roddi."

Optimus and Galvatron laughed, then Optimus double-checked his hand gun. "Looks like I've already been whipped. Come on, Magnus. Let's go rescue a damsel."

Galvatron and Cyclonus left first then Magnus and Optimus. It occurred to Rusti how none of them even bothered to check whether or not the planet was hospitable to carbon-based life forms utilizing oxygen. Rodimus 'invited' her to go first while he double-checked the safety lock. Rusti slid down the shaft, landed on the transition platform then climbed down the ladder.

A pristine planet waited for her outside. Lush, blue-green foliage swayed in a sweet, clean breeze. Dark blue mountains peeked between several top-heavy trees. The 'men' did the same thing as she: they gazed at the beauty around them. Then Magnus walked off first, partly inspecting the Mozart's outer hull as he and Prime marched off.

Galvatron and Cyclonus walked about twenty feet apart. Rodimus examined the ground before he landed. The breeze tousled his wavy red hair as the Autobot leader snooped among shoulder-high grasses. Rusti kept his pace about five feet away. When he paused, she did too and searched the horizon.

"You know, Lady-friend," he said quietly. "Me and Optimus have discussed executing your father."

She was not surprised. "Why haven't you? He's already killed someone."

Roddi narrowed his eyes. "I'm not sure why." They moved left, about five o clock of the Mozart's position. "It's as if Op and me have this weird suspicion that Daniel's supposed to stay alive for a reason."

"Is that the Matrix's position, Roddi?"

He stopped and rested his gaze on her. "Maybe. Or most likely," he amended. "We're both getting the same inclination. So, as painfully irritating as he is, it's just not for us to take him out yet."

Rusti did not know what to say to that. I'm sorry he's such an asshole, Roddi. I'm sorry that everyone suffers because of him."

Rodimus smiled ruefully. "You know, Lady-friend, sometimes good things come out of bad. Sometimes you have to wade through crap and suffering because something better is on the way. And who knows where this incident might lead us?"

Rusti took two steps as puzzlement touched her brows. "That's very philosophical of you, Roddi."

"Eh, I've had time to think." He glanced around again and caught the gleam of a metallic object six-thirty of the Mozart. "Hey, he announced, "there's something over there." He and Rusti swam through thick beds of grasses until the land dipped and brought them to the inland of a large lake.

"Holy crap," Rodimus whispered. "It's huge."

Rusti beheld a gleaming dark silver arch rising at least fifty feet. On either side floated two blocks of silver and holographic imagery of a control system. She stepped beside Rodimus, unable to look elsewhere. "Is-is that what brought us here, Roddi?"

"I don't think so, Lady-friend. I think we phased here and the Mozart followed its frequency readings." Rodimus shrugged. "Or not."

A _thump-r-r-r-umble-thump_ came at their direction. Rodimus grabbed Rusti's hand and they raced for a nearby copse of beautiful trees. They stayed down and kept quiet. Trailing out from the grasses came two enormous tortoises, each the size of a twin-engine plane, wingtip-to-wingtip. A harness strapped their shells and they walked like elephants. A long train of energon cubes floated behind the great beasts and at the end, several biped creatures followed. Their smooth silver exterior reflected the world around them. Their hairless, faceless heads displayed no indication of communication or sensory reception. Both caravans aimed for the archway. One silver being pointed to the floating control module on the left. The archway shimmered and the inside of a hanger or shuttle craft or storage bay appeared. The tortoises passed into the arch and once the travelers all entered, the archway returned to normal.

Rodimus gapped. "It's a gateway," he stood.

"It's a time window," Rusti corrected.

"What?" Rodimus helped her up. "What?"

"It's a time window. I can _feel_ Quintesson imprints all over it."

Rodimus smiled and ran toward the gateway.

"Roddi, don't go near it!" Rusti's voice caught in her throat when she saw Optimus' Inoux headed in their direction. It moved so fast and so quietly, Rodimus didn't see it until the Inoux hand-sprung clear over and landed in front of the window.

Roddi and Rusti held their breath while they looked on. The Inox ignored them and activated the time window. The arch crackled with red lightning and the scenery within it blurred until the black walls of great mountains appeared at the distance. Between them lulled a red ocean. Above that hovered two suns and a ringed planet. The Inoux, however, did not step into the window. It collected spikes of red electricity until a spear of white lightning shot into its faceless head. The window shut down and the Inoux stood in place. A minute passed. Two. Three. Four. The Inoux crumbled like a rock. Little pieces tumbled about the ground and rested.

Glancing at Rusti, Rodimus carefully approached the stone closest to him. He bent over to examine it and the rock moved by itself. Roddi sprung back as the object grew four legs.

Rusti gasped and hunkered closer to the tree. Another piece of the original Inoux vibrated and a long set of arms grew from its small form. The four-legged rock walked around like a headless dog. A scorpion's tail sprouted from one end, a head and a set of pincers raised from the other.

The biped rose from the rock like a plant in a time-lapse film. Five more Inoux rose from other stones and ten more after that then another three. The aliens gathered about but neither Rodimus nor Rusti heard them speak. A moment later the group split up and all but vanished out of sight. Rusti covered her mouth and held her breath until Rodimus returned to her.

"We need to find the others _now_." he said.

41


	2. Chapter 2

T.L. Arens: Dark Storm Rising

Author's Note: I make no apologies for what I write.

Page 11

TRANS-SPATIAL INCLINATION

 **II**

Cloudstreaker resembled a weak human female; soft and sweet. But to Daniel's chagrin, she did not fight like one. The femme targeted the bruise Magnus left on Witwicky's face the day before. He slapped her for it but that did not alleviate the burning pain.

He vowed to take Resonna next time instead.

At first the ambush worked in his favor. He waited until the other three fell asleep. WHY didn't he take Resonna instead of the humanoid Autobot? Oh, right. His daughter had that rifle trained in his direction.

So he roughly grabbed Cloudstreaker and hauled her out. She kicked. She kicked him hard but her boots only scuffed his exosuit. Cloudstreaker cooperated when Witwicky used a stern choke hold. She either complied or he'd break her neck. He scoffed and mimicked her words when she mentioned Magnus.

"They're all cowards," he spat. Daniel gripped her at the upper right arm with bruising pressure. If she whined or mewed, he increased the pain.

"They'll come after me," she said feebly.

"Oh yes," he agreed, "that they will. See, it's not about you. I'm going to exchange you for something I really want."

Cloudstreaker scoffed. "Freedom? I'm sure they'd love to exile your sorry aft." She cried out when he slammed her against the nearby wall, his face too close to hers.

"I mean my _daughter_. I mean my own flesh and blood."

"That won't happen."

He slapped her. " _I_ am in control here. Never forget that." he yanked her by the other upper arm and dragged her into the dark. At one point she tripped over a frozen EDC officer and smacked the floor a little too hard. Spots briefly filled her vision and Daniel lost his grip.

Cloudstreaker heaved to her feet and ran three yards before Witwicky shot the back of her left leg. It did not fully incapacitate her, but it hurt like hell and she hit the floor again. Cloudy rolled over and tried not to cry as Witwicky approached.

He leered as his weapon silently ordered the femme to move. "Not much of a fighter, are you, Little Girl? Hu? No spark. Not much fun slapping an invertebrate." He helped her up and pushed her along.

After a moment or two, Daniel spoke while Cloudy limped in front of him. "I always liked a female who has a little spit and fire in her. My wife," he continued, "Netty, she was a real fighter. I mean, she dished it back. I respect a woman who's not a simpering, cowardly thing. Me and her, we fought. I mean, not in front of the kids. That was her rule. If we had to hack stuff out, we'd get a motel room. That woman never bothered the police; she and me handled the situation. Takes two to tango. You femmes, though, not so tough. Not so brave."

Cloudy dared a scornful glance at him. "I'm guessing you don't remember Convoy. She didn't put up with you."

Daniel shrugged. "She's a city commander. She doesn't count."

"Why? Too much _feminazi_ for you? You're a misogynist."

They encountered an air shaft located beside a Level 2 emergency hatch. Daniel tugged at the metal grate between them and the improvised escape route. "You know, skank," He said between grunts, "I'm a lot of things: absent father, thoughtless husband, reluctant participant in Autobot politics. But misogynist..." he paused to catch his breath. "I just might be. After all, I'm an asshole. I probably have one of the finest resumes outside of prison."

Daniel gave it one final tug and the grate tore off. He dropped it and faced her. "Did they tell you about me?"

Cloudy hesitated and blinked slowly. "I know enough not to like you, Daniel."

He shrugged. "I guess they didn't." He prodded for her to go first then followed immediately.

They slid at a 90-degree angle and had Cloudstreaker been any slower, Daniel's weight and metal suit would have landed on her. Without waiting for him to push or prod, she descended the extension ladder and hoped the outside world supported organic life forms. If she died, so would Daniel. She held her breath and dropped from the last rung. Daniel dropped as she backed away. A dark world greeted them by means of animal sounds and a starry sky. Cloudstreaker released her breath and sharply, deeply inhaled in case the air was poisonous. _Better to die than suffer,_ she thought. Cool moist oxygen filled her lungs. An electromagnetic frequency tickled her senses and Cloudy turned nine o'clock, facing only the night. Was there a city or town nearby from which the power source came?

Daniel stomped about, gauging the ground's stability. "Huh." Daniel mused. "Doesn't feel like Cratis, in the least." He double checked the charge on his suit and the auto light off his chest. Grabbing her wrist he lumbered through chilled grasses. "Come on let's go. They'll find us soon enough."

"Where do you think you are taking me?" Cloudstreaker endured scratches, cuts and gnats in her eyes as the brute pulled her along. How Daniel managed to walk so fast in his old-model exosuit, the femme could not guess. She did, however, detect energy reduction from his suit. Daniel tracked on, crushing a path through the wild in a non-specific pattern. An unseen shrub scratched her cheek and caught her hair. She tried to get Daniel to pause a moment but he yanked her along, tearing her skin as she passed through brambles. When her hair tangled in another shrub, she lost her footing and fell. "Stop!" She begged, "I can't see, I can't keep up."

Witwicky stopped, sudden and enraged. He spun around and slapped her. Cloudy fell left amid a nest of thick grass and laid there until Daniel hauled her up by the shoulder and slapped her again and again. Satisfied with her weakened state, he dumped her and kicked her thigh.

"You too stupid and holy to use swear words, Little Girl? Huh? Don't they teach foul words in bars or pubs anymore?"

Cloudy did her best to glare but her weary and blooded features only made her look like a wounded animal. "Is that all you can thing about, Daniel? You're setting me up to give you an excuse to hit me again."

Daniel bowed over, hands on knees. "I don't need an excuse, Little Girl," he leered. "I have everything I need right here. Everything I dish out is what you deserve for sabotaging my digipads."

Thinking of Arcee gave Cloudy a moment of bravery. "Oh, am I supposed to apologize?" she sneered. "Did I break your toy?"

"Smelt you, bitch."

"And back at you." she retorted. "You're a soulless bastard whose only pleasure is giving pain. All Arcee ever wanted was to love you, Daniel and you abused her in ways I can't fathom."

"ALL OF THIS IS HER FAULT!"

"How?!" Cloudy dabbed the jacket sleeve over her wounded cheek. "How is it her fault? Did she deny you a life of your own? Did she take your friends away from you? Did she blackmail you? Or-or was it that you wanted to have sex somehow and she turned you down? You are a _worm_ , Daniel. Nothing more."

"It wasn't sex." he said in a calmer voice. "I got nuthin' below the belt." he paused to measure her reaction but Cloudy closed her expressions off. "Nobody said that to you, did they?"

"Do you really think I care about your reproductive organs? I'm an Autobot. It means nothing to me."

Daniel huffed. "Your loss, sweetheart." Again he paused. "Did you know our children were specially engineered?" he did not like the contempt on her face. "See, the problem is, there's enough for me to Tarzan but not enough to swing between the trees."

Cloudy wearily rolled her eyes. "Is that your excuse? You hurt people because you can't get sexual satisfaction? That's flimsy, Daniel, even for you."

"It's not about sex," he said word by word. "Not about sex. It's about control and the means to get someone to do what you want." after a second he added: "even if it's painful for them."

"You're a disgusting lump of Human flesh. Lower than Scutzoids or sli'kikik." She watched him turn ugly; eyes shrank and his upper lip curled.

"I'm going to tear you apart, Little Girl. I'm going to break every bone in your body and _then_ I'm going to leave your pieces scattered for the Primes to put you back together. And FYI, Cloudstreaker: being Human means death is permanent."

Cloudstreaker rolled to her feet and narrowly escaped Daniel's clutches. She ran toward the Sagittarian Mozart then veered left for the unknown source of electromagnetic energy. Daniel hounded after and caught her hair. She yanked the strands from his grip and changed direction.

Using a great amount of his suit's power, Daniel leapt high and landed in front of her. Cloudstreaker slammed into him as if he were a brick wall. She dropped, stunned. He partly hauled her up by the collar while she lagged in and out of consciousness. Daniel punched her twice then spit on her for good measure.

"Not much sport, are you?" he sneered. "Damn weakling." He spit again before banging his chest plate and made the Tarzan call.

 _Awraah! Awraah! D-d-d-d-d-d!_

Daniel could not tell if that was a bird answering him or some sort of mammal. Pacing a few steps off, Witwicky listened for other animal sounds. "It's like a regular Garden of Eden," he said to his unconscious captive. "Maybe we'll end up stuck here for good. You and me, Magnus, Ruck-a-mus..." his voice trailed off, "... fuck-a-mus. Galvatron, maybe? How about a wedding ceremony? Hu? I think that'd be great. You and me, Cloudstreaker. And don't worry, I'll be gentle- _ish_." He returned and gloated over her prone form. "How about we find out if you're a _real_ girl?"

Daniel rolled her from the side and fumbled about the utility belt. He paused and squeezed Cloudy's left thigh.

The attack came so fast, Witwicky only saw a blur of motion. She slammed his jaw with the butt of her hand and shoved him away with one foot. When he didn't back off far enough, Cloudstreaker stamped his face with the other boot. While Daniel wormed along the ground, screaming over his gushing nose, the femme raced through long grasses, heedless of direction.

The night sky rolled back as dawn lit the world with blue-grey shades. The ground under Cloudstreaker turned soft. She descended a gentle slope where hundreds of crystaline rocks covered the area at least half a mile. She ran past one then another. The rocks grew heads with long necks, long legs and sharp beaks.

 _Awraah! Awraah! D-d-d-d-d-d!_

 _Awraah! Awraah! D-d-d-d-d-d!_

With a cry, Cloudy lost her footing and fell on her left side. The alien birds drowned Daniel's distant voice as they called one another and ruffled their strange bodies. Rather than feathers, the birds were covered in thin, nearly-transparent plates much like human fingernails. The plates glistened and groomed with great care. The birds' plating made a great clattering noise as they flocked in formation and plunged into the grassy waters of a nearby marsh.

The instant she had the all-clear, Cloudstreaker pushed herself up and took in the landscape with a three-quarter sweep. The Mozart stood ten o'clock of her position but Daniel came for her at nine-thirty. She could try to make a run for the ship in hopes of beating him to it. But Daniel's exosuit versus her bruised and bloodied body left few options.

Cloudstreaker held no illusions about Witwicky; he'd kill her whether or not it was necessary.

" _I see you, Cloudstreaker!"_ Witwicky called from the distance. _"Run as you may, run as you might, you'll never get out of my sight!"_

Run she did.

In spite of his adrenaline-driven aggression, Daniel could not catch up to the platinum gazelle in his sight. Cloudy did not have his techno-enhanced strength but then he did not have her military training. She kept running long after he tired out.

No matter. He'd just keep her from the Mozart. The others were probably looking for him right now. Witwicky smiled. It would take them days to find the escape hatch. The Mozart was a big ship and only six active bodies therein. It mean Daniel had time to oppress and harass the femme.

He shouted for her long and clear: "HEY-Y-Y-Y SNOW-W-W-W WHI-I-I-ITE! IT'S JUST YOU AND ME!"

Witwicky stalked her, unaware the other six members of their group already discovered his escape route. He tracked Cloudstreaker over the distance. The small woodland closed itself in darkness. Tree boughs knitted tightly and starved the ground of sunlight. Their presence stood silent and intimidating. Daniel hesitated. An alien planet always incurred unpredictability, especially where animals were concerned.

But somewhere amid the trees' roots and crowns his prey huddled, baiting his antagonism.

Shoring up his courage, Daniel stepped under the first tree. "Cloudstreaker!" he called, "no sense hiding. It won't be difficult to find you, even in the dark." he braved additional steps. "It won't take me long to find you. You know all about that, right?"

The trees absorbed his voice and each footfall. Witwicky found it disconcerting how he did not hear a single bird.

He enhanced his voice with authority. "Cloudstreaker, enough of the games!" Daniel proceeded forward. He passed one ancient tree after another. His eyes roved back and forth, pausing at every slight indication of a humanoid presence. He double-checked the homemade weapon on his suit.

Some forty feet away, Cloudy crouched amid a pile of rotting logs. The copse of trees grew so thick that little sunshine reached the ground. No shrubs, weeds or vines took root under the canopy. The femme found a heavy rock and a sturdy piece of wood but the primitive weapons offered no promise of salvation against Daniel's damned exosuit. She watched as he searched until he paused to adjust something on his arm. Cloudstreaker dared wager that if distracted enough, the asshole might not see or hear her flee out the other side of the miniature forest.

She picked her way from tree to tree. Sixty feet. Seventy. Eighty.

"CLOUDSTREAKERRR!"

Like a frightened animal, Cloudy ran for her life. She spotted the edge of the woods and ran faster.

"CLOUDSTREAKER!"

The high pitch of an activated laser rifle screeched through the air followed by the _whap-crack_ of a broken tree.

Cloudstreaker emerged from the thicket, raced down a grassy slope and across a long and wide plain.

WHAM!

She slammed into something not there and blacked out.

Daniel exited the copse. He lost footing at the crest of the slope. His heavy suit upended and Witwicky tumbled down the hill in a graceless clatter. Cursing his clunky suit (although he refused a new one) Witwicky gathered himself together and scanned the valley for one missing broad with white hair. Neither his eyes nor his scanners picked up movement, but, _but_ his scanners did pick up an electromagnetic anomaly. A positronic field buzzed hot with activity.

An invisibility shield?

Daniel craned his neck left then right. When his scanner picked up movement two o'clock of his position, he directed all his attention to the indicated movement. He curled his upper lip in a smile and glee made his heart jump. His weapon charged up as if by itself and he aimed at Cloudstreaker as she sat up, dazed and disoriented.

"Hey," he called to her. "You have made my life complete, Cloudstreaker. I've always wanted to go on a fox hunt." The face she made looked weird for the type of predicament she was in.

When a bright and powerful energy sword crossed his vision, Daniel understood the femme's reaction.

" _Torestog intambue salg. Tesk teskgove."_

Daniel froze, half expecting a blow to the back of the head or the sizzle of burning metal as the energy sword passed through his suit. Instead, the _female_ 's voice changed languages:

"Hunting sapient creatures is against the law in some territories. Lower your weapon and I won't hunt you."

Daniel's smile turned nervous as he faked confidence. "You misunderstand. I'm a law enforcement officer trying to apprehend this dangerous criminal. She might not look like much, but she's a top-notch psychic from Lunarphyte-"

The energy sword vanished followed by sarcasm. "You've got to be kidding me."

The blow knocked Witwicky out before he drew another breath.

Cloudstreaker trembled as she stood on shaking legs. The female looked human enough but the femme remained cautious. With a few soft kicks against Witwicky's middle, the lady spoke with a self-assured but friendly voice.

"You with this slug?"

Cloudy shook her head then nodded. The stranger scoffed without condescension. "Sorry, Sister. You'll have to answer one way or another. Please don't tell me you're married to this lump of waste."

"He's with us, but I have no relation to him other than abductee."

"See?" the female with long legs and messy light brown hair grinned. "That wasn't so hard." she produced a rope of energy and wrapped it around Witwicky's wrists. "You said 'we'," she kept glancing at Cloudy with pumpkin orange eyes. "You come from that ship out that way?"

"The Mozart? Yes. Yes! We crashed here."

" _Landed_ ," the stranger corrected. She stood straight and tapped a mic on her left ear. "It's all good, Dot. Let Captain P. know the looser is packaged and ready for parcel post." She winked at Cloudy. "I dunno. I was busy slapping the male around. Hold on. What's your name, Sweetie?"

"Cl-Cloudstreaker."

"Uh-huh. One of those," she said into her mic. "Pissant will be pleased with himself. It's going to be miserable living with him the next few days. Okay, I'm gone." She sent Cloudy a warm, welcoming smile. "Hi. I'm Rain. The thing you bumped into is the Infraction, our humble, illegally-owned spacecraft. Dot will send Pipsqueak out to pick up the trash. How about you introduce me to your friends who are looking for you?"

"I don't... really know you."

"But you know my name and you know that I just rescued you from this barbarian wannabe, right?" Rain nodded toward the thicket. "So come on. We can trade hair style secrets along the way."

Still uncertain, Cloudy joined the stranger and returned to the Sagittarian Mozart.

-INCLINATION-

Optimus half listened while Magnus indirectly scolded him regarding Daniel. They retraced Cloudstreaker's footsteps along the lush marsh. Magnus did not see his silent companion smile at the nearby flock of birds. Beautiful things, Prime thought. Long necks, like swans, bright red with emerald streaked down their backs. Others, presumably female, reflected the world in black and grey.

"...and don't tell me it's your special 'Prime intuition' that's telling you and Rodimus he has to stay alive!"

"Neither of us like it, Magnus," Optimus answered. "Believe me, given the choice-"

"You have a choice right _now_!" Magnus glued his feet to the ground, crossed his muscular arms and glared. "Even if you don't want to execute him outright, you can still exile him here." Optimus stared at him, expressionless and annoyingly calm. Magnus' glare turned hot and he wanted to explode when he realized his fifteen-minute speech went nowhere.

"Did you hear that?" Prime asked.

"My own _voice_?" Magnus snapped. "Haven't you heard a thing?"

"Daniel. Execution. Murderer. Justice. I heard you, Magnus."

"But you're not paying attention! You're WRONG about this! You're wrong about Daniel! What is the MATTER with you two?! You're willing to execute Redial for treason, but you won't do a thing about an asshole who has murdered?! This is WRONG! And you've been wrong before, you're wrong NOW!"

"I've also been right before," Optimus answered with a leveled voice. "And you must agree that I've often been more right than wrong."

"ALRIGHT!" the Major-general exploded. "Tell you what, Prime, you keep an eye on that little shit. If I get one moment alone with him, ONE MOMENT, I'm taking him out!"

Optimus stared calmly as if nothing was wrong with universe and nothing ever has been. "Very well, Ultra Magnus. Come on. I think we found Cloudstreaker."

Magnus and Prime approached the tree line's edge and Cloudstreaker burst from the tall trees. She fiercely hugged Prime first then Ultra Magnus and hugged the Major-general a little longer than necessary. Behind her Rain approached in a confident stride. The breeze played with her messy hair bound in the back by a clip.

Their new-found friend arced her hand in a one-wave greeting. " _Lolitau_ , as they say on Moracis. I'm Rain. I thought you'd want the girl back. But the asshole chasing her is tied up and stuffed in a crate in cargo bay."

Acting as if meeting a new person was an everyday occurrence, Optimus extended his hand. "Hello. I'm Optimus-"

"Prime," Rain finished for him. She turned orange eyes to the left. "And I'm guessing this is Ultra Magnus. Can't be wrong with a build like that."

Magnus scrunched his face, confused and dubious. "Are you a psychic?"

"Nnnno. But I have a shipmate who is. Well, that's an understatement, actually. Don't worry. He's just a snail." Rain nodded to the right. "This way. We want to round everybody up, hold a meet-and-greet session."

Before they took a single step, Optimus cast his gaze toward the Mozart. "Excuse me, Rain. I think one of our crew members has returned." He trailed back to the ship and Magnus automatically followed. The ladies shadowed them and nine minutes later, the group rejoined Galvatron and Cyclonus. The Decepticon leader smiled as if guilty.

"I would have called you," he said, "But the comlink isn't working."

Magnus pointed to Galvatron's right hand. "Why are you bleeding?"

Cyclonus folded his arms. "Galvatron thought it amusing to play with some sort of reptile. It almost ate his hand."

"Not my fault!" Galvatron objected. "It came for Cyclonus first. I interceded and now I am his hero."

Cyclonus silently balked then corked his reaction. "Tell them, Galvatron."

"Right. We ran into an Inoux."

"What?" Prime and Magnus said simultaneously.

"Infantry Class, if I'm correct. But it wasn't thirty feet high, Prime. It stood more like six, like Magnus' height. Short."

Cyclonus shook his head. "That is not short, Galvatron."

"I'm only _pretending_ to be a flesh creature, Cyclonus. That makes Magnus and thereby, the Inoux, _short_."

Rain interrupted the moment. "Umm, we weren't counting on your enemies following you here."

Optimus: "It was a stowaway."

Galvatron: "Who's 'we'?"

Sturdy but rushed footsteps disrupted the conversation and the momentary six became eight. Rodimus and Rusti approached with apprehension in their eyes. Rodimus, who walked faster than Rusti, lifted his left arm and pointed to his wrist.

"We should have checked the comlinks before separating-who's this?"

Rain leered at him. " _She_ is the unofficial ambassador of the  Infraction, Mr Redhead. My name is Rain."

"Oh. Well, you might want to take your little space cruiser and book it, Rainy. We have bad guys on our afts."

"Yeah. I know," Rain answered tersely. "I've been assigned to collect and relocate your butts to the Infraction because your ship isn't safe."

Magnus: "Safe from what?"

"Whatever might come through the time window."

"She's right," Roddi confirmed. "Rusti and me found a giant portal or doorway. Might be Quintesson. The Inoux," here he pointed at Optimus, " _your_ Inoux, fed on the portal's energy. It crumbled to pieces and they turned into a whole bunch of little Inoux, all three classes. They split into all sides of the compass. No telling where they went." Rodimus paused a breath and returned Rain's leer: "By the way, we have our own ship, thanks."

Her eyes darted up the Sagittarious Mozart then back on Roddi. "That oversized skateboard?" she thumbed Galvatron. "He's right. You're a little undersized. Besides, this ship isn't generating anything, not even emergency back up systems. It's totally out of phase. As it was-know what?" she said, interrupting herself, "We shouldn't be standing around like this. It'll be sunset in half an hour. So how about you shlep along, join the rest of us for dinner?"

Rodimus fixed his face in a negative response. Rusti glanced from one Prime to the other then Magnus. "Guys, she said _for_ dinner, not _as_ dinner. Unless you'd like to eat rations again in the near-dark. I don't think she's here to rape you or scalp your hair and sell it on the DNA market. And yes, Galvatron, that means you, too." Rusti added when the Decepticon passed a hand over his naked noggin.

Whether they voted yes or not, the Mozart group tagged Rain through the copse of trees and onto the adjoining valley. The sun sank behind the horizon the moment Rain's ship lowered its invisibility shield and welcomed the group with bright lights.

Cloudstreaker hesitated at the bottom of the hatch while everyone else filed in. A small smile spread her lips. "Is this made of carbon-copper tri-nitrate and titanium?"

Rain laughed, tapped down the plank and dragged the femme up. "I don't know about stuff like that, girl. You'll have to ask Pipsqueak."

Rusti entered the Infraction behind the two Primes. The ship appeared larger inside than outside. The boarding shaft opened into a spacious entryway. Carts and crates lined walls and stacked atop one another for long journeys. As the hatch closed under the ship's belly, a cast of four people emerged from three separate doorways. One, a male with a flat-top head, carried a large snail on his shoulder. Rusti couldn't help but stare. Why would _anyone_ want a snail for a pet?

Another male wearing a brown leather jacket and a pair of bedroom slippers stood beside an elderly female with a mischievous smile and an instrument in her left ear.

"Many felicitations," the slippers-guy greeted. "Excuse us if we fumble with your Earth language. None of us are versed in its culture. I'm Captain Parthon." he laid a hand on the old female's shoulder. "This is Dot, our communications expert." He pointed to a stout, flat-footed alien with deep scars on his hands and an oversized belt buckle. "That is Plucky, our resources accommodator and the snail oozing over his shoulder is Pissant. The next one over is Pipsqueak, she's our engineer. Next to her, Bookworm, our medic and fabulous chef. Of course, you know Rain. She's our ambassador and gunner when necessary. And Pitstop, our pilot and Regime rules and regulations aficionado. Welcome aboard. Hope you're hungry."

Rusti sat beside Optimus at a table topped with purple meat and blue-green vegetables. At least the bread looked similar to that of Earth. Everyone traded dishes and offered salt or hot sauce. Since hot sauce was not included in the ship's rations, the humanized Autobots each tried it. Cyclonus refused to try it. Optimus outright did not like it. Rodimus and Galvatron competed against one another as to whom had the highest tolerance. Cloudstreaker and Magnus watched them as they ate the stuff on their bread, their meat and their vegetables. Magnus even tried it in his drink then grinned as his face turned beet-red.

Rodimus surpassed Galvatron who finally rushed to the lavatory, holding his mouth.

Rusti forgot to eat her own dinner. She had to teach them how to use table utensils and shook her head when Rodimus learned how to launch food stuffs from his spoon. Some of it landed on Cyclonus who merely raised a brow. Optimus asked her to cut his meat for him then stole a quick kiss when she leaned over.

When was the last time she had this much fun?

Once the Autobots settled down, tired from too much fun and pleasantly satisfied with their first real home-cooked meal, Rodimus asked the first question:

"So, you guys know us and we have your names and faces. Wanna tell us why you're here and why you like us so much and how you speak the language of another planet?"

The Mozart's crew balked, flinched and startled when the Infraction's crew pointed at the snail as it nibbled on a leafy vegetable.

"Okaaay..." Roddi said with uncertainty. "Care to elaborate?"

Dot snorted into a napkin and belched without excusing herself. "Pissant, you'd better fess up and quit acting like a better-than-thou. These people here probably think you're an animal."

Rusti blinked at the old lady, surprised at her plain, no-nonsense talk. "Uh, that thing is sapient?"

"Damn right, Sweetie. And a pain in the ass."

"Fascinating," Cyclonus muttered.

"Can I poke at it?" Rodimus asked.

" _Eeeenough!_ " the snail squeaked like a cartoon character and shook a tiny fist at them. " _You're all a collection of uncivilized ineptitudes!"_ The purple mollusk shoved the leaf aside and slithered to the middle of the table.

Baffled, Rusti dragged her eyes from the gastropod to Parthon. "Uh, I thought you were in charge, Captain."

"Hmm, hm. Well, I control the ship. A glorified taxi cab, so to speak. And no, he's not in charge. Technically, that's Rain. She's the one that finds us jobs and assignments."

" _Me TOO!"_ the snail cried. " _Mine's more important than playing ping-pang between planets and that miserable space station!"_

Rain rolled her eyes. "Here we go again."

" _Were it not for me, you worms would be wallowing at the bottom of Psyklenex's sewer system! You should be more grateful!"_

A strange feeling crept over Rusti and she narrowed her eyes at Pissant. "Why do you seem so familiar? Have you ever been to Earth?" she recoiled when the snail turned to her and smiled.

" _No, my Dear. I'd never soil myself with anything to do with your backwater, thacking little world. It's enough to know that concepts like common sense, self-respect, common courtesy and virtue ended the minute they closed the Garden of Eden."_ he paused then threw his arms in the air. _"Whoops! Another planet of sapient beings blew themselves to Hell! What a surprise."_

Dot intervened with her frank, leveled voice. "What Pissant isn't telling you is that he's responsible for saving you."

" _I was getting to that!"_ he glared at her then laced his arms behind his back and slimed his way down the table. _"I felt a strange disturbance through the chronospheric wavelengths. At first I thought it was just a hiccup. But upon attending a second look, I discovered your ship flying out of phase, slipping further and further outside our reality. I knew I had to do something because, let's face it, no one would miss you idiots. So I reached out with my brilliant mind and snatched you from the jaws of eternal damnation."_

"Wow!" Roddi inserted as much sarcasm in his voice as possible. "Aren't you a regular awesome."

Pissant extended his hand. " _I might even let you kiss my wrist._ "

"Up your's." Roddi answered without hesitation.

Pissant pointed at him again. " _That's the matter with you lower life forms! You ooh and ahh over miracles but when it comes to truly amazing beings such as myself, you have no respect whatsoever! I get better appreciation from fish!_ " Pissant twisted about and pointed at Optimus. " _And will you QUIT KISSING HER FINGERS!"_

Prime rested his gaze upon his wife. "But they're perfect, like her lips."

Rusti grinned, her attention on nothing but him. She reveled in his proximity when he touched her lips with his. If he were air, she'd breathe him in and hold.

Captain Parthon yawned languidly and stretched his arms. "Well, here, it's been a fabulous rescue mission. Plucky will assign you quarters. If you need anything, you can ask either him or Dot. I need to do some log work then turn in. See you at breakfast."

His crewmates wished him good night and his slippers patted out the doors. The room churned with unsettled stillness until Pissant scoffed and slimed back to his leaves. The Mozart's crew glanced at one another before looking to Optimus. When he ignored their expectant gazes, they panned to Roddi.

"Sssso," Prime Number Two drawled, "are we supposed to hang with you guys, and if so, what are we supposed to do with the Sagittarian Mozart?"

Dot took up the question: "Well, not much you can do, is there? I mean, according to our scans, yur sweet ship there's outta whack."

Cloudstreaker spoke softly, edged with weariness. "We have to realign the tachyon structure."

Dot, Plucky, Pipsqueak and Pissant: "Ewwwe."

Pipsqueak tossed a brown roll of unknown substance into the air and caught it with her mouth. "That's meticulous work. Job description should read "Experts only, neeblees don't bother." Her head dropped on her right shoulder and she stared at Pissant until the mollusk swallowed the mouthful.

" _What?_ " Beat. " _Oh no! No, no, no. That is NOT why I rescued their sorry carcasses from eternal doom. Deal's a deal._ "

Dot produced a small bottle of pills, took one herself then flicked another at the snail, smacking him on the face. " _Yur_ deal, you mean."

" _I was taken advantage of! Victimized by a power not even in the same classification! I was bamboozled!"_

Rodimus folded his arms and glared. "Is there a translator in the house?"

Pipsqueak popped another ball into her mouth. "What's that saying from Humans? Modus operandi?"

Dot slumped and rested her head on her hand supported at the elbow. "Vivendi," she corrected.

"Ah-hu," Pipsqueak concurred. "He's under an ulterior motive with a modus vivendi."

Awkward silence.

Rodimus: "Sssso... what's the deal?" he really did not want to lay eyes on the slug (strike that) snail. "What do you want?" he sneered.

Pissant took another bite, swallowed then belched. " _What everyone else wants,_ " he returned in similar tones. " _Life, liberty, the pursuit of money, sex and power."_

Rodimus leaned over the table. "Translation, please."

Rain rolled her eyes and tilted her chair back. "He's after a power source. Some sort of little item or other." From answering Rodimus to snarling at the snail: "and we're not doing anything until we've completed our mission for which we've already been paid, Pissant."

The purple mollusk shook his hands in the air to fend her off. " _Oh no!_ " he mocked. " _Divinity forbid that we should do something Captain P. Doesn't want us to do. Money comes first!_ "

Rain sat straight in her chair and scowled. She looked to Roddi. "It's not just a money thing," she explained, "It's a rescue operation."

Magnus, Cyclonus and Rodimus: "Oh."

Optimus leaned forward and stared at Pissant. "You know, we did not ask you to rescue us."

" _You're welcome, sub-creature._ "

Optimus continued smoothly, "Technically, that means no deal was struck between us. We signed no contracts."

Pissant planted his tiny hands on either side of his sliminess and glared as hard as he could at Optimus. Rusti grabbed her napkin, covered her mouth and cleared her throat to keep from laughing. " _What do you want?_ " the snail asked slowly.

"You brought us here," Optimus reminded him. "You could send us back to Yolthanis III and from there to Earth, circa Earth Date 2038."

" _How DARE you try to strike a bargain with me! I am a god! I set galaxies in motion before the Quintessons were cursed! I staked out the boundaries of dark matter!_ "

Optimus did not react. "So, you agree."

" _I agree to nothing!_ " Pissant turned away in a huff.

Optimus sat straight and drank the last drop of tea. "I do apologize," he said in monotone. "I assumed you were capable of such a feat. I suppose we'll have to find another way back." He returned Galvatron's approving grin with a slight smile.

" _I didn't say I couldn't,_ " the mollusk protested.

Optimus did not make eye contact. "Then you agree to the terms?"

Pissant waved his hands above his head then squirmed around. "I suppose," he grunted.

-INCLINATIONS-

Rodimus asked Plucky to assign him quarters first. He opened the door and stepped downward, surprised to find a spacious, nicely furnished room. Memories from another time and life churned tight corners in his head and left tracks of pain at the back of his skull. Rodimus flopped on the bed and stared at the ceiling.

He'd been almost Human once. _Her_ name was Michelle. He didn't care whether she was pretty or not. She was mean and betrayed him the moment she realized she wasn't going to get past his lips.

That was three days he didn't care to relive. Rolling to his right, Rodimus stared at the entryway until his vision blurred. He managed to keep himself together for quite a while now. But a nagging pest called guilt kicked his ass like a little girl demanding attention. Sadness crawled under his skin and he faded to sleep recalling the names of those he murdered on Bare Anches.

Plucky assigned Cloustreaker quarters beside Rodimus and Rusti beside her. On the other side of the corridor, he assigned Magnus' room first followed by Cyclonus, Optimus and Galvatron.

Optimus gratefully accepted the digital key and pocketed it in his jacket. "Where is the storage bay?"

"Eh?"

"I need to let Daniel Witwicky out for food, water and to pee. Can't keep him cramped up forever."

Galvatron grinned. "You're going to be nice to him? Can I watch?"

"Who said anything about being nice? And yes, you may watch."

Plucky led Galvatron and Optimus to the lower belly of the ship. Two sets of double doors opened horizontally then vertically. Light flickered on and softly buzzed above their heads. Crates, both wooden and metal, stacked along the walls like squat soldiers. Grappling cables and hooks looped and dangled from the bay's top and sides. Twenty feet from them stood a larger-than-usual crate complete with air slots. A used and torn sticker marked the metal-reinforced crate: SHIP HIGH IN TRANSIT.

Plucky handed Prime the crate key with an uncertain smile. He unslung a small bag from his left shoulder and held it between his hands "Just to pass it on, my friend, we usually reserve that crate for animals."

Optimus kept his expression passive. "Noted. Thank you." he skipped a beat: "I suggest you step back a foot or two." Prime did the same and opened the front of the crate via remote control. "Daniel," he called, "we have food. You may come out if you wish."

Galvatron glowered and Plucky cringed as Witwicky released a paragraph of profanity, slander and expletives.

"How DARE you treat me like this!" he shouted.

"It's far from what you deserve," Prime answered. He winced when a sour, rotted stench rose from the crate. "I suppose you're more than satisfied to cover your cell in your own leavings."

Roaring like a bear, Witwicky charged, arms outstretched and aimed at Optimus. The Autobot leader waited until the last tenth of a second then stepped aside. Galvatron did the same and Witwicky slammed his body into the sturdy storage bay door. He spun about, back pasted to the unyielding surface. Hair to boot, Witwicky painted himself with his own vileness. He even drew obscenities on his legs with his own blood.

The man looked and acted crazed but Optimus harbored no pity for him.

With one hand tucked under an arm and fingers about his chin, Galvatron stared at the walking feces factory. "Offhand, I'd have to suggest a short shower."

Prime almost sang his answer. "Yes. Perhaps Magnus would like to help out."

Plucky intervened with a finger pointed up. "Um, we have a vehicle wash. Sometimes clients or dock rats will track in mud or contaminants when they're loading merchandise."

Plucky returned to his duties while Galvatron and Optimus stayed outside the bay. Neither of them said a word while Daniel's screams and swears filled the bay.

"Galvatron," Optimus said several minutes into their vigil, "I don't recall asking for hot water."

"They use hot water in a decontamination chamber?"

"Well, I know _we_ do. But I never thought to ask Plucky if _they_ had or used hot water."

Galvatron shifted his lower jaw to the left and raised his brows. "So, you're saying Daniel is taking a cold one in there?"

"Affirmative."

"Yikes."

Somewhere amid the hum of machines, the swishing of brushes and pounding water the two mechs heard Daniel's strangled voice: " _I'll get you for this, Prime!_ "

Optimus shook his head. "Just washing his mouth out with soap."

Rusti woke the following morning with no recollection of her whereabouts. They traveled so much that homesickness settled in her stomach and stayed there. Sometimes it ached and extracted tears. Rusti allowed three tears to fall. Feeling sorry for herself was a bad option. So many other people lost their friends, their families, their lives. She had nothing to complain about.

Then she remembered: her immediate 'family' were no longer Transformers. She sat up and blinked. Who would have thought that Humanoid Transformers were such beautiful people? In spite of his hairless head, even Galvatron looked every bit a legendary Greek god, gorgeous from dimple to ankle. But that smile, dear divinity! Galvatron had SUCH a flashing smile!

Then her stomach fluttered when she thought of Optimus. The young lady grinned. So many good looking guys and nowhere to put them! She laughed aloud then covered her mouth. Laughter sounded so foreign anymore.

 _Optimus was her size!_

With a barely-contained squeal, Rusti abandoned the bed and rushed to dress. If last night's dinner was anything to go by, breakfast promised another bout of absurdity; a comedy of first-time's, snarky comments and funny errors.

Yet again her life turned upside down and this time, it was a good and wonderful thing.

Venturing down the empty corridor, Rusti retraced the path toward the kitchen. She expected to see her friends huddled over the long metal table, discussing their experiences. Instead she came face to face with Bookworm. His triangular features studied her expectantly. His near-amphibious quirks reminded her of a lizard tilting its head one way then another. He smiled with broad cheeks and three dimples. He was perfectly adorable.

"Good morning," he greeted. "Do you eat carbohydrates or are you strictly carnivorous?"

She returned the smile. "Unless it's so hot it can be used as rocket fuel or if it's still moving on my plate, I'll eat anything."

He smacked her on the arm before passing by. "Good answer!"

Shock rather than pain caused Rusti to flinch and cover her arm. She hoped his action was just 'good camaraderie' and not meant as an affront. A soft chuckle bleated from the table. Rain placed a circular card face down and Dot picked it up.

Rain winked at Rusti. "Don't let the chef yank your lever. He's sort of a prick but he'll warm up to you."

Rusti claimed the same chair as the night before. "I'm not the one he should be concerned about." She tossed her eyes from the kitchen to the door. "Where'd he go?"

Dot and Rain: "To wake everyone up."

Rain chose a fresh card from the stack between she and the older female. "I hope no one in your group is a grumpy morning person. Bookworm is annoyingly cheerful in the morning."

Dot took her turn at the stack of discs then discarded three from her hand. "The captain can be snotty but he has a good reason for that. Plucky's a morning type, too."

Rusti watched the ladies play another hand before she asked the next question: "What are we doing today? Or, rather, what did you guys have planned?" They both stared at her as if she should have the answer.

Dot turned away first and discarded two more cards from her hand. "I think it's the oddest thing how humans will use the masculine gender noun to describe both male and female."

Rusti turned puzzled. "I don't understand."

"You said 'you guys'. Isn't 'guy' supposed to be of male gender?"

"It can be."

" _But_ you use it for males and females." Dot set her hand down and spread it out for Rain to see.

"I guess it's a cultural thing," Rusti answered. Rain laid out her cards with a crazed grin and Dot slumped.

Rodimus shouted incoherently from the corridor. Rusti silently sniggered and watched the door.

" _Breakfast is the best way to start a new day,"_ Bookworm said at the other side of the door.

" _I don't start new days,"_ Rodimus retorted. " _I just continue them from the night before. Night, day, it's all the same. It all requires the same amount of data entry!_ "

The door slid open and the chef led Roddi in. Cyclonus followed and Galvatron and Optimus entered next.

Bookworm spun about and eyed each Transformer in turn. "Do you prefer salt or sugar?"

Rodimus leaned over and leered at alien chef. "If it's _food_ , I'll eat it so long as it's not so hot that it comes out my ass the same temperature as it was in my mouth."

Optimus sat beside Rusti and touched her hand. "Hello, Little Bell," he said warmly.

A gushy feeling blossomed in Rusti's stomach and she smiled as if her face could barely contain the joy. "I was hoping to see you last night."

"I needed to take care of your-er-"

Galvatron filled in the noun: "stray dog. Op and me visited our stray dog last night. A difficult and unpleasant task."

Rusti batted her lashes and nodded. "I'm so sorry you guys are having to deal with him. Maybe the next city or town we visit, we could just leave him there."

Rodimus slouched over the table supporting his head by the elbow and hand. "Cultural contamination is a bad thing, Lady-friend," he said. "Your sperm donor would end up mailed back to us, parcel post, with payment on delivery. It's not a bill either Op or I want to pay."

Bookworm gave everyone a glass of deep red fruit juice plus a pitcher on the table if more was required.

A soft baritone hum drifted along the table in the absence of conversation. All eyes turned to Galvatron who stared at the table cloth, lost in thought. One note. Two, three, four. One, two, three. Four, five. Repeat. The simple melody compelled everyone to listen as the Decepticon hummed it again until he realized what he was doing.

Galvatron smiled sheepishly. "I don't know where it's coming from but I hear it in my head. It's constant. Beautiful. Maybe I dreamed it."

Rodimus grunted. "It's your fairy godmother calling you from her grave, Galvatron. She's begging you never procreate."

"No worries," Galvatron answered smoothly. "I'd not trust you around offspring of _any_ species, Rodimus. Knowing you as I do, I'm willing to bet you read horror stories to Rusti at night."

Rodimus sat up a little to make eye contact. " _Age-appropriate_ , I assure you, Galvatron."

Rusti cut in: "Uh, Rodimus, Edgar Poe, Steven King and Warther D. Lukensvaldt were not age-appropriate. Believe me. I'm scarred for life."

Roddi's face lifted with a smile. "They were appropriate for _me_."

The kitchen door opened and Plucky joined them at the table. Magnus followed him and sat beside Cyclonus. Plucky poured himself a glass of juice and handed one to Ultra Magnus.

"Morning, everybody," Plucky greeted. "News is Parthon isn't feeling light and fluffy today. So we'll be staying here until tomorrow. And not to worry, Rain, we'll make the rendevous on time."

"Hope so," she replied without enthusiasm. "This isn't just a simple pick-up-and-drop-off assignment."

The door opened again and Cloudstreaker stepped in followed by Pipsqueak who yammered without skipping a beat.

"See here? We found them. Not to fret. Men are the easiest things to find in the galaxy. Morning, Plucky! What's going on today?"

"Staying planet-side."

Pipsqueak clapped her hands together. "Excellent! Cloudstreaker and me were discussing the inconsistencies in manufactured tri-thermal crystalized passive inductors verses natural linear peridot formations." She paused, "well, that and she got turned around. Mmmm! Is that tea cakes I smell?"

Without mouthing off, Bookworm brought in two large platters piled with meat and miniature pancakes, or so Rusti guessed. The chef vanished then returned two seconds later with two jars, each contained syrup of a different color.

Dot swiftly piled her plate and poured red syrup over it all. "Pitstop still at the bridge?" she asked.

"Uh-huh," Bookworm confirmed. "He's negotiating with that weirdo on Dawmalli.

"It's a bad deal," Dot warned. "I'm telling you, he's not to be trusted."

Bookworm shrugged as he took a seat beside Rain. "Offer's too sweet to resist."

Dot shook her fork at him. "That's exactly what they said in the War of Five. Security was too sweet a deal to pass up. Few people cared whether or not they'd end up enslaved. Pipsqueak, hon, I'll need extra juice this afternoon for the SLZ interview."

"Got it."

"Can't let a little delay keep me off the radio." The old lady pointed a finger at Rusti while taking a gulp of juice. "That reminds me. I'd love to know about music from Earth. Titles, artists and eras. Doesn't matter which or what."

"Music?"

Bookworm nodded toward Dot. "Her super-hobby. Dot collects music from all over the galaxy. If music were rocks, Dot would have her own planet."

Rusti smiled sadly. "I'm sorry, Dot. I can give you the information but..." she choked up and pursed her lips to control tears. "All that's gone now. The Quintessons destroyed it all." Rusti held her breath to keep from crying. Optimus offered his napkin and kissed her head. She leaned toward him, sniffing.

Rain narrowed her eyes. "The Quintessons?"

Rodimus pushed food around his plate until it resembled Galvatron with a cigar in his mouth and a zit on his nose. "Yeah, Quintessons," he confirmed. "Freaks with five faces, a metal egg for a body and tentacles. They ambushed us and sorta took over. We've been trying to..." he sighed and frowned. "...get back for some time now. Seems the universe at large is just tossing us around like a deflated football."

Rain smiled with a slight roll of her eyes. "We know what Quintessons are, Dummy. Who else would skip the tip and off the hard hats who built that time window out there?"

The Mozart's crew glued eyes on her, surprised. Rodimus broke the pensive silence when he pushed his plate away. "They're the scourge of the galaxy, aren't they? They're everywhere except printed on Galvatron's underwear. If I had a piece of currency from anywhere for every time we've encountered those bastards, I could buy my own universe."

Dot wiped a line of syrup with her finger and licked it. "Sounds to me like you have quite a story to tell. Care to tell it?"

Optimus and Roddi told their side of the story first, starting as far back as the Hate Plague. Optimus touched on the Nebulos Incident then the string of disasters and tragedies that followed. Rodimus talked about the Virus and that he learned the Quintessons designed it and planted it in Optimus when his corpse rested in the Autobot Mausoleum.

That was the first Rusti heard of it. She covered her mouth in horror, snuggled into Optimus' arms and kissed his hand.

Magnus recounted the invasion on Earth and the planet-wide destruction. Their new-found friends listened attentively until Rain tilted back in her chair, wiped her face and sat straight.

"That... that is way tough, as in _ever_. It's right miraculous you still have some skin intact. Dot's got stories of Quintesson obliteration. Nations, planets, solar systems... they're like an ulcer rot."

Galvatron leaned forward and nodded at Optimus. "They haven't mentioned the Inoux. Tale's not finished. There's intrigue, forbidden alliances, miserable planets, time fragmentation and Decepticons."

"Decepticons?" Pipsqueak repeated. "You mean like Skorponok?" All eyes trained on her and Galvatron and Cyclonus froze. She scoffed nervously, "Should I suppose you know him?"

Rodimus smacked his lips. "You could say that, yeah. Dated him recently, have you?"

"Maybe," Rain answered in equal tones. "She thought about setting one up between you and Zarak. Lovely couple you two would make; like an egg and a hammer."

Rodimus shook a finger at her. "You, you're funny."

Rusti grew impatient with the smart remarks and eyed Rodimus. "How do you know him?" she asked Rain.

"Skorponok is Psyklenex's dog without a leash. He runs Toranoth like some mechanism from Torments. Skorponok and his creepy mechanical dung worms punked Mechlatex some fifty turns ago. They upped Rurur City from a nice town filled with sweet old ladies to a damned fortress. People go in, soldiers come out."

Rusti sized Rain up, really looked at her. Was there something off about Rain, about the _Infraction_ 's entire crew, or was Rusti herself perceiving things incorrectly? "Do you do business on Mechlatex?"

Rain ran her tongue over her teeth and shook her head. "It's not family-friendly. No pets allowed. The natives love visitors and invite them as dinner. The populace are uptight. Half are hysterical and the other half very religious. If the government cranks and their G2 system don't box you, the citizens will. And they'll think they're doing you a favor. The folks there aren't treated nicely, but they're loyal to their homeworld."

Dot jumped to her feet and from a pocket in her light jacket, she produced an ear microphone. "I hate to leave this converse," she said. "Hit the pause button and we'll continue it later. Right now, it's zap-time."

She rushed out the door and down the hall.

Pipsqueak grinned. "She's late for her broadcast. Meanwhile, Cloudstreaker, would you care to show me your ship-that is, if it's right? If there's some thingamajig you need, I can pass it on or snitch it."

Cloudy smiled before the group broke up and scattered.

Magnus accompanied Cloudstreaker and Pipsqueak. After all, the Sagittarian Mozart was his ship and no one was to peak under her-HIS panels without the captain around.

Rodimus made himself scarce. Optimus thought it uncharacteristic of his friend to set out alone. He did not ask, however. Roddi needed space.

Cyclonus went one direction, Galvatron another. The former Decepticon leader said something in passing about accompanying Dot.

Optimus and Rusti stepped into a gentle afternoon sun. A perfect breeze combed the long grass around them. Rusti felt so peaceful, she thought of one thing to make it better: a nice dress. Sure the outfit she had on was great for 'adventuring' but it was far from romantic.

Optimus, too, reveled in the moment. He gazed upon the world with a different type of visual sensors, but that did not change the sensation. The sun caressed his face with warmth. A million wonderful smells tumbled with the light wind. But he abandoned the world around him and gazed upon a different type of perfect beauty. In spite of her worn out jeans, tough military and standard-issue shirt and jacket, Rusti's kindhearted spirit shone through; the same sweet soul who cared about him as a person.

Once he counted all the freckles on her face. Now, _now_ he could kiss them. Joy swelled within him like a great ocean wave, powerful and amazing.

And then she smiled.

"Rusti..." her name fell from him like the most beautiful melody. "Rusti," he almost could not say it right, "Will you marry me?"

31


	3. Chapter 3

DSR CHAPTER 14.3

TRANS-SPATIAL INCLINATION

CHAPTER 3

Galvatron followed Dot to the central level and two rooms shy of the bridge. She fished for keys to unlock a narrow brown door. Galvatron read a large blue poster taped on its scratched and worn surface:

" **TRESPASSERS WILL BE PHYSICALLY AND MENTALLY VIOLATED. Think 'grandma in a two-piece swimsuit or drooping boobs in a wrong-sized bra."**

He thumbed at the poster. "Would you make me one of these?"

"What for?" Dot shot back. "You got drooping boobs?" Galvatron peeked under his shirt and the old lady cackled. "Come on, Handsome. I got a nice chair for you-or a lap if you want."

They stepped into a warm, comfortable room lined floor to ceiling with shelves overstuffed with albums, boxes, books and binders. One sturdy full-back chair waited at a semi-circle desk while another chair, far older than the first, sat in a nearby corner. Warped boxes, old book albums and a broken mechanism squashed the seat cushion. Dot removed the collection of odds and ends, dusted off the arms and patted the flat seat.

"This can be your chair, if you'd rather not sit on my lap, Galvatron."

"Doubt you could handle me," Galvatron grinned.

Dot shook a finger at him. "Never underestimate the age bracket, Handsome." she grinned wickedly when Galvatron's smile slid off his face. She waved her hand down and capped her ears with a headset and a small microphone. As Dot prattled into the mic, Galvatron studied her desk. Three boards and two strange devices sat within Dot's reach. A chipped coffee mug stood dutifully to her left. Dot reclaimed Galvatron's attention when she suddenly switched into in a tongue-twisting language. Galvatron watched as her who body animated with words and a song. She spoke a few seconds before the song ended then slipped into another dialect. She played two more songs then switched to a third language. One song later, she slipped into a trade language Galvatron knew well.

"Coming at you from the not-so-seen corners of the cosmos, you are with Dot Ten-Twelve on the 105.7 on Ursa F frequency. For the next three hours I will ride you smooth into the tunes, take a pause for thought and prayers for the Ground. Right now, tap into the business voices that brings us to you and then sail with me on _Mussieer and the Paze_."

She clicked a toggle switch on her desk then laid eyes on Galvatron. "You know, Galvatron, there's a whole quadrant of folks that might know how to help you and your folks. We might have to sneak around to find the contacts. I might even toss a net over the frequencies, see what I can fish out. I could interview you, let the masses know what's going on outside their own sector. Could be colorful!"

The Decepticon nodded slightly and tightly pursed his lips. "Before I became a dust mite, I would have relished the notion." he laced fingers and leaned forward. "I like to think I'm wiser than that now. After all, Skorponok ordered my execution decades before he arrived here. We're operating under cloak and laser rifle."

Her right cheek lifted in a wry smile. "I know how to play that game." She winked, "enjoy the magic of radio, Handsome."

 **-INCLINATION-**

Rusti said 'yes.' A thousand times: Yes! A _million_ times: Yes! And then he lifted her off the ground. Rusti laid hands on his shoulders and locked eyes. _I've known you all my life. Every part of you is perfect._

And she laid her lips on his. Subtle, tender. He gradually lowered her as their lips lingers scant breaths from one another. Their foreheads connected.

"Rusti?"

"Yes?"

"I need to take a look at that time window."

She grinned. "Ohhh no. I can't let you go by yourself, Optimus. You're too little."

"Heh." he squeezed her upper arms then took her hand and their feet swished through tall grasses. Optimus swung her hand back then kissed her fingers. He repeated then stopped and took a good look at her hand.

Rusti waited four seconds: "What are you doing?"

"I've been so careful to count the freckles on your face, I never bothered to see if you had any on your hands." he studied the back of her right hand then turned it over. He counted: "Four. Five. Seven. Nine-"

"Oh!" she stopped him, "No, Optimus. That is a scar."

"That can't be a scar."

"It's a scar. It, um, the space station. When I was sixteen." her stomach fluttered when he softly, sadly mourned and kissed the needle prick scar. Her eyes drifted to the left and smiled coyly. "There two on the inside of my elbow." she shivered when he gently tugged her sleeve upward and kissed them.

Rusti laughed when he stole a swift kiss on the right side of her neck.

"Come, Little Bell, let's get something done."

Bypassing the copse of trees, they walked hand-in-hand over a rocky slope and finally to the time window. Shrubs, vines and weeds decorated the giant dolmens in green and brown. Prime tugged overgrowth off three short stone mounts and studied the ancient hieroglyphics etched into the granite surface.

Rusti watched him until a fat caterpillar, the length of her arm, marched up the weather-worn surface. Red and green highlighted the long stiff hairs on its back and bottom. It paused so that it bulbous head roved side to side, taking precaution of the environment. Rusti found its white eyes fascinating.

Optimus tapped the rock with two fingers. "This has been here for a very long time."

"Before 2013?" she guessed.

His eyes laid on her more like a scientist to a colleague than as a wife. Rusti knew that look; Optimus was enamored with the discovery. "I'm inclined to estimate nine hundred thousand years ago." he shrugged and tilted his head left. "By Earth-time," he amended. "This is not original Quintesson technology."

Rusti waited three seconds before prompting her response. "What?" she smiled, "they watched some distant future episode of Star Trek or something?"

"Not if it's on the same time as their favorite cooking shows."

Rusti's smile twisted with puzzlement. "What?"

"Cooking shows," he repeated. "Where they teach you how to make food and rudely eat it in front of you."

"I know what a cooking show is, Optimus. But why are they important?"

"You don't want to know," and his eyes returned to the hieroglyphics.

Rusti sat on the stone, arms crossed. "You started this," she scolded. "Tell me about it."

" _You_ started this," he returned. "But very well. Quintessons love seafood. Any fish, any time. Kelp is optional. And they'll eat anything. I mean _anything_ ; sea slugs, puffer fish, crater blobs... probably even hagfish."

Rusti covered her mouth, disgusted. "How, how do you eat slime?"

He hesitated. "Drink it?"

She slid off the rock, bowed over and tried to keep her stomach intact. "Optimus!" Then she laughed in spite of the thought.

He chuckled and traced the stone with his eyes. "This tech is not of Quintesson origin. But according to this, they abducted someone who knew how to repair these..." his voice trailed. " _These,"_ his blue eyes dropped on her. "Rusti, there's more than one of these machines in the area."

"On the planet?"

"No. In the realm. Help me find a map."

Rusti batted her eyes. "I don't understand. Why would they keep a list and map of time windows-OH!" It dawned on her: " _coordinates."_

"Right."

Working together they tugged and ripped and pulled weeds, vines and a shrub until the time window stood clear of its overgrowth.

Roddi's voice sailed over the air with feigned suspicion. "What are the two of you doing?"

Rusti felt like a child caught playing in someone else's yard. "Uhh, pretending or improv gardening?"

Both Primes zeroed on her with their eyes. "Really?" they chorused.

Rodimus smirked and tramped over piles of torn, uprooted vines. "Improv gardening, Rusti? I doubt the botanists find it amusing. Wait!" he hld up a palm. "Scratch that. They'd find _Optimus_ amusing."

Optimus inclined his head. "That means they'd drag you off the stage."

Rodimus grinned. "I'm the Daffy."

 _ **BOOM!**_

The explosion-and Magnus' litany of swear words-erupted from the Mozart's direction. Optimus, Rodimus and Rusti dropped everything and raced for the ship.

-INCLINATION-

Magnus lagged behind Pipsqueak and Cloudy. At first he thought about transforming (and showing off) and ushering the ladies to _his_ ship. Instead he grumbled. His new human form proved more disadvantageous by the hour.

Approaching the Mozart, the Major-general warned Pipsqueak that the ship might be more than she anticipated. (Yes, he was bragging.)

" _Yadda-nad_!" she replied cheerfully. "I am the flea that moves the dog!"

Confused by the alien's reply, Magnus led the ladies around the Mozart's tail-end to starboard where he unlatched a human-sized access panel and manually released a boarding dock. It unfolded and Magnus cleared his throat. "According to some Earth customs, ladies go first." A funny feeling waved in his diaphragm when Cloudstreaker sweetly smiled then he wondered why he felt that way.

" _Sooooy,"_ Pipsqueak said upon entering the dimly-lit ship. She lifted her eyes up and up and up. "She's a mighty thing!"

" _He,_ " Magnus corrected as he climbed up.

"Hi?"

"Rusti said the Sagittarian Mozart is a _he_."

"Hi. Yes!" Pipsqueak agreed, "This heart is strong. Yet I sense kindness, concern, do I not?"

Magnus didn't know. He loved his ship. The Mozart became his home, his personal sense of stability amid their insane plight. "That," he said, "is something you'll have to ask Rusti. She says it appears to her like a... um, a centaur. Er, a ghost of one, anyway."

With a gleeful smile, the girl walked forward as if she knew the Mozart by heart. Magnus and Cloudy fell in line with the Major-general ready to correct Pipsqueak's course.

The alien girl's gait sped into a skip. She turned left and stopped at a door. Pipsqueak waited for Magnus to catch up and eagerly leaned from one foot to the other.

Magnus huffed. "You seem to know where to go. Are you a telemechanic?" He did not wait for her answer. Magnus palmed the dark wall up and down, feeling for the correct panel. His fingers caught the latch and released the lock. Pushing the metal doors open, Magnus led them up a long case of stairs and through another door at the first landing. They climbed cold steel rungs until a trap door snapped open above them. Magnus emerged into a wide circular room honeycombed by crystalline chips the size of 4x6 planks. He helped Cloudstreaker in then Pipsqueak before activating emergency lighting.

"Now," he warned, "there's only three and a half hours of light here. So we have to conserve." He tugged at the first crystal plank and pried it from its home slot. Magnus shook his head and set eyes on their young friend. "You have no idea what it's like to hold something this large that should be very, very small."

Pipsqueak's eyes enlarged. "The ever-shrinking Magnus!"

His face twisted with a combination of distaste and confusion. "What?"

Pipsqueak laughed. "Show me what you need to do."

The trio spent two long hours identifying the correct sequence of micro-capacitors. They carefully traced over a hundred affected lines into a large number of several re-sequencing boards.

Realizing her initial assumption proved wrong, Cloudy softly whimpered. "Oh, Primus," she swore. "I didn't think this through."

"What?" Magnus asked, a little surprised.

"Well, this is not only one sequence." she could not look him in the eye. "I'm so sorry, Commander. It's going to take a lot more than the few of us to do this. I completely underestimated our situation." Frustrated, she turned away and wiped a wet spot on her cheek."

Magnus gently squeezed her upper left arm. "We'll figure this out. Alright?"

From self beratement to heart-skipping thrill, Cloudy's emotions kept her from breathing. With a blushing smile, she privately wished Magnus would squeeze her arm again.

Pipsqueak tapped a finger on her bottom lip. "Realigning tachyon particles will require an entanglement assimilator. Not easy to find. Difficult to buy." she paused then grinned. "But I can build one!"

Cloudstreaker stared with wordless awe. "Can you teach me?"

"Love to! Now, we'll need two of those crystalline capacitors, two samples of your floating sequence regulators, a sample of your anti-electron uplink charges. A-a-a-and the formula for your energon-to-plasma ratio."

Magnus looked dubious. "That's quite a shopping list."

"Oh!" Pipsqueak exclaimed. "I will also need samples of your conductive fluids and a graphic illustration of the ship's framework and exo-structural shell."

Cloudstreaker programmed a simplified holographic illustration of the Mozart's hull while Pipsqueak carefully tapped into several conductive fluid lines and extracted samples in small phials.

Magnus hauled out two crystalline planks and set them on the grass. He returned to the ship and leaving a note with Cloudstreaker, climbed up to Deck 2. Swearing how he _never_ wants to be Human(oid) ever again.

In spite of the Mozart sleeping and offline, Magnus found the uplink charges humming with life. They vibrated like blue-white pistons, regulating the transition from alpha-proton to anti-proton ignitors. He stared at the barrel-sized objects. They were heavy enough to hold by hand. He doubted moving them by himself as a much smaller, weaker body, would be easier. But weight and bulk were only part of the problem. Disconnecting even one without proper tools tools required a feat of ingenuity. Ultra Magnus should know; he installed the damn things himself. And he made sure they _stayed_ that way.

"Well, crap."

Cloudstreaker convinced herself she imagined the _bang-clank_ echoing from elsewhere in the ship. Perhaps the Mozart was trying to reactivate. Or perhaps her humanoid ears played mischief with her mind. But when the eerie metallic scrape-groan repeated twice more, she decided to investigate. Gathering her tools and supplies, Cloudy followed the sound up one deck then the next. When filled the air, she froze and waited. Emergency blue lighting cast soft shadows around her and made her think time stood still.

The noise returned, now mutated into an unnatural squeal. It ended with a reverberating _BANG!_

With a four-letter word on her lip components, Cloudstreaker yanked open the closest maintenance access and scaled the rungs. She kicked open the corridor panel to Deck 2, paused to transform then stomped her (squishy, Human) foot.

"DAMMIT!"

 _K'TONG! K'TONG!_

She ran and ran and although Cloudy knew her way around the ship, distance from door to door and corridor to control rooms sent her into a fit of frustration.

 _T'KONG! T'KONG!_ _T'KLANK_ _._

Magnus' voice rolled from the door across the way and Cloudy tried to keep laughter silent as he swore and cussed at the equipment, at himself (for being so proficient) and at the human situation.

Finding composure, the Autobot femme entered the auxiliary room and stared in disbelief.

Ultra Magnus, by himself, jury-rigged a crane assembled from parts 'borrowed' from three unconscious Autobot engineers, pieces of their weapons and wielded them together by means of a pulsar rifle (she could tell by the hit-and-miss burns.)

Remembering her place in the line of authority, Cloudy switched to a more respectful manner. "Commander-" he grabbed her hand and dragged her across the room before another word was said.

" _So_ glad you're here, Cloudstreaker!" he said with whispered desperation. "I could use some help."

"Well, I don't know how useful I'll be-"

"I'm trying to use one regulator to power the crane to remove and lift the other two."

Cloudy's white eyebrows almost rose to the middle of her forehead. "You're trying to... you're trying to do what?"

"A battery-powered crane using the energy flow from one of the regulators."

Oh, she wanted to laugh and the bubble threatened to burst forth! What Magnus proposed wasn't only dangerous but genuinely stupid. And she believed he already knew that.

"You're going to laugh at me, aren't you?"

She blushed. "Well, no!"

He raised his own brows so she recanted. Quenching the oncoming laughter, her voice stabilized. "Okay, yes," she confessed. "Let me help you." His smile, his simple sweet smile made the day worth while.

Working together, they redesigned the crane to work from the ceiling rather than the floor. Cloudy carefully siphoned energy from one regulator and Magnus directed the crane to unscrew the security latches and twist each regulator out from their posts. The Magor-general had to admit how surprised he was at the ease and speed with which they worked.

After disconnecting two regulators, Magnus and Cloudy reassembled the crane into a wagon with makeshift wheels.

Cloudstreaker stayed with the second regulator while Magnus towed the first one outside.

But he miscalculated the weight-verses-speed ratio. The wagon clipped his heel and he fell face-down on the ramp. The make-shift wagon rolled over him. He recovered in time to watch it steer out of control, tip over and with it the regulator. The regulator hit the ground-

 **BOOM!**

The shockwave knocked Magnus clear off the ramp. He flopped about like a bean bag then lay still for ten seconds. He popped back to life, laid eyes on the smoldering dark crater and spewed words like a swindled card player.

Optimus and Roddi arrived as the Major-general's ears stopped ringing. At first he did not hear them clearly. The third time through, he glared at Rodimus who called him 'gramps'.

Rodimus grinned, moistened his thumb and finger and extinguished the ember glowing on Magnus' collar. Magnus swatted Roddi's hand aside then sneezed.

"Gross," he muttered.

Optimus glanced at the scorched ground then scrutinized Magnus who looked like he crawled out of a trashed car. "What happened?"

"Are you blind?" Magnus snapped. "This condition..." here he waved his hands up and down his torso, "...had better be remedied, Prime, as soon a possible! Now, if you'll excuse me, Cloudy is waiting for me to get back." He climbed half way up the ramp before he paused, eyed the sky and swore again. "The wagon's gone!" he complained. "That means the _crane_ is gone!"

Optimus kept pity out of his voice; patronizing Ultra Magnus would only piss him off. "Did you need help, Magnus?"

The Major-general almost said 'yes' but stopped himself and smiled. "No, thanks. I think Cloudstreaker and I can handle this."

The answer surprised both Primes. Puzzlement warped both their faces and they left. Rusti smiled and followed them.

 **-INCLINATION-**

Galvatron understood broadcast communication far as a one-direction exchange of information; he gave orders and everyone else listened.

Radio, he, discovered, didn't work exactly like that. People could call in and make comments or requests. However, the Decepticon former commander could not tell if Dot instigated the responses she received or if the responses guided her from one topic or mood to the next.

Either way, Dot valued the interaction between herself, her listeners, the music and conversation. Some of her program was live, other parts pre-recorded hours or days ago. And like many under-educated or naive people, Galvatron looked at radio-or audio broadcast-as mere entertainment. But by the third hour, he realized the media held far more power than sharing thoughts or moods. Media was influence, word-of-mouth logic, reasoning, truth and lies. The media wasn't a toy but a tool, no less powerful than a hand weapon. Media's power lay in three IN's: Inspiration, Influence and Instigation.

And then he realized and understood why Optimus talked to his people rather than crudely enforcing orders.

Another song faded and Dot touched her mic, her studious expression u-turned into a smile. "And that bit of _tuneage_ was from Soloson, now celebrating his third twenty-ninth birthday. One day he might be as old as me. But he'll never look _this_ good, boys! We're now at the change of the hour and per Dot-Ten-Twelve on 105.7 _Ursaf Frequency_ , we're going to take a short peep into News and Noise. Don't go far and don't touch your redial! I'll be right back!"

She flipped a switch and a commercial for some off-planet automobile clanged from her headphones. The old lady turned to Galvatron with a grave expression. "You said you wanted to get news from Toronoth."

"Skorponok," Galavatron corrected.

"That's right," Dot confirmed. "It's ugly, Galavatron. You and your friends have come to a part of the galaxy that's tearing itself apart." Dot frowned, gulped a cup of cold and hesitated. "I have 30 seconds. As we said before, Skorponok works with and for Psyklenex. You could call him a Number Two. He's turned the planet Toronoth into a military outpost the devil would drool over. What you're going to hear might disturb and enrage you if you have any compassion at all. Are you still willing to hear this?"

Galvatron turned somber and nodded.

The old lady resumed her place and demeanor before the board, released the switch and targeted her audience with a more serious attitude. "Best evening to my listeners from the Boarder Territories of the Chunyan Rift to the market places on Space Station Cygnus. This is Dot Ten-Twelve haunting your receivers on the 105.7 _Ursaf Frequency._ With me tonight is none other than Pardar Urmagoth from Tidings From the Basement. Hello, Pardar, you there, my friend?"

" _Ut, greetings, Dot. Bit of frosty morning on the rise here_."

"Morning," Dot grinned. "What's for breakfast?"

" _Flammagan juice, eggs and the daily ration of Tartarus."_

Dot smiled. "Heh. Well, friend, you can have my share. I'm on a low-Tartarus diet."

" _Tu. Came in loud and clear, Ten-Twelve._ "

Tell us what's flying on the wind, Pardar. I know there's been an increasing number of people trying to leave Parsus and Tumilitus."

" _Tu. That topic's hot and sharp, Dot. Whole regions of Parsus have melted into wastelands. As you know, Parsus is practically Toronoth's neighbor. Not neighborly- neighbor, mind that. Parsus is pretty tight on their independence. But there's been droughts and famine and disease the likes of which the population hasn't seen in twenty-thousand years._ "

"Mother, may I," Dot swore. "Are people blaming Toronoth?"

" _It's an outright assault, Dot. Your listeners need to understand that Parsus isn't just under attack, it's being invaded and appropriated by Skorponok without a call for surrender. War hasn't been declared because Parsius has been neutralized. There is no fighting back."_

"What of Tumilitis, Pardar? How is the situation there?"

" _Let me put it this way, Dot: every planet and planetoid in and around the Chunyan Rift is being systematically conquered by silent weapons. Sor? As I described Parsus: drought, disease, famine. All incurred by Skorponok's war machine. Toronoth isn't even a planet anymore. It's a monster reconfigured and designed to produce mechanical nightmares. Psyklenex and Skorponok plan to take over the entire galaxy one quadrant at a time. They've taken control of one-third of the Persaid Arm and all 142,000 biospheres, sor?'_

' _Now I've not been to Parsus or Tumilitis. I know of people who have and two of them, both university professors, visited Tumilitis two years ago and have not been heard from since. This is a silent war, Dot._ '

Pardar paused then continued _: "I've been to Dawmalli two years afore. I went there to investigate the caverns of Rue, see if any families still lived there. I will not go back to Dawmalli ever again. I'll tell you why: on the surface, everything looks normal and ordinary. But the people there, the native inhabitants; they're not people. They move and behave strangely. There is no life in their eyes. I suspect-and this is only a suspicion-I suspect_ _that most, if not all the Dawmalli has been replaced with mechanoids."_

Dot stared, speechless for four seconds. "That's a... that a serious statement, Pardar. How could something like that happen without anyone knowing and calling foul?"

" _In a word:_ _ **Nactites**_ _." Pardar paused to let that sink in. "There are a number of people who claim someone they know who has been replaced with bio-mechanoid technology_."

Galvatron's stomach dropped. His skin turned clammy. The new sensations bothered him less than the horrifying news. Someone found a way to replace bio-organic materials with bio-mechanical. The implications, while amazing, were horrifying. Every person replaced was one more person under someone else's direct control. The creature within died while the body fell under hive mentality. No freedom of thought and no free will.

Even Dot took several seconds to make a remark. "That is truly disturbing, Pardar. Do you know whether or not these same mechanoid replacements will be or have been inducted into Psyklenex's surging private army?"

" _Well, as you know, Dot, Skorponok has turned Toronoth into a weapon populated by living weapons._ "

"Right. Yes."

" _Well, he has turned a portion of that army into construction workers and they are-and I have confirmed this-they are building a massive fleet of ships._ "

Dot inched closer to her board. "Let me make this clear, Pardar. When you say 'massive' are you talking-"

" _ **Thousands**_ _, Dot._ _ **Thousands**_ _._ "

"Sweet mother." Dot whispered. She recovered from shock and glanced at Galvatron. "Pardar, if someone wants to verify your story-"

" _On the Stargrid, Dot. They can contact me via the_ _SS Cygnus_ _. I check my messages every other day._ "

"You all heard that here first, people," Dot declared. "You'll want to verify this yourself. Don't just take anyone at their word."

She signed off and flipped straight into a song.

 **-INCLINATION-**

Rodimus hoped a little rest might reset his mood. It failed; he felt just as listless and bored as ever. He _should_ be happy; he and Op were on the same page. He learned to tolerate Galvatron and they miraculously lived through yet another close call. _Logically_ he should be happy and ready for the next challenge: getting back to normal and figuring out their next move. But Rodimus didn't want to do anything. He didn't _care_.

Even hunting Optimus down failed to move the cloud of sadness over Roddi's head. Magnus' incident was entertaining for a few moments, but the depression returned once again and Rodimus trailed back to his room and tried to sleep it off.

Fail.

He sat and tried to entertain himself with a book and although he thought it kinda cool to hold a human-sized book in his hands, the moment's delight did not last. He laid on the bed, he paced, he sat down again.

He didn't feel right; not since waking from that several-weeks' sleep on Yolthanis. He paced twice before planting his ass on a nearby chair. Roddi slouched, elbows on knees. The floor wasn't particularly interesting but he stared at it anyway.

Need to prank someone, he thought. That might lighten his mood. Rodimus considered visiting Witwicky but that would not end well. "Can't even squish him into gum," the Autobot complained out loud.

Tired of his own company, Rodimus left solitude to explore the Infraction. At first he 'poo-pooed' the vessel as little more than an oversized toy. The Infraction offered several luxurious rooms, a sizable storage bay and a two-person craft for trips from upper-atmosphere-to-ground. Not only did she offer an impressive decontamination chamber, the Infraction also offered four different environments, not the least of which sustained waterborne sapients.

The ship had its own botanical bay by which Bookworm cultivated the crew's food and medicines.

Then Roddi found the perfect hangout; an audio-video room for tunes and _flix_. A smile crept over his face as he gave the sharp, classy place his personal approval.

" _Like the ship?"_

"GAH!" Rodimus felt, heard and saw no one until she stood behind him. He turned cross. "Never, ever, _ever_ sneak up on me like that!"

"Aww!" she mocked. "Did you wet your panties?"

Mortified, he opened his mouth to retort but the damsel- _not_ -in-distress nodded to the AV room, stepped around him and part way down a short isle of seats.

"You like this room, don't you?"

Roddi narrowed his eyes. "Aren't we presumptuous?" he sneered. "But please, go on."

"I _love_ this room," she declared. "You can fit thirty people comfortably, rearrange the seats-" she raised her voice: " Infraction, dance floor, please!"

Rodimus nodded when the room rearranged itself. All seating areas slid to the walls, tables rose from the floor and a small stage unfolded.

Roddi shrugged, refusing to give her a fair moment. "Well, I might be amused were it not for the fact that I _am_ a Transformer."

Rain kept her cool and held on to her smile. "You're a regular stick-in-the-mud, aren't you?" He shrugged, she ignored it. "So! You're the other Autobot leader-or whatever Autobots call their upper-class clowns."

Rodimus loosened up minutely. He protruded his lower lip and dropped his arms from a fold to his sides. "Quick wit. Loose tongue. What's not to like?"

"Your looks, for one thing," she jabbed.

Rodimus leered and pointed to his own face. "Hey, I have a _patent_ for this mug, Sweetums."

"Might want your money back."

Rodimus shook his head. "You're a bright one. Off of what slum hole did they rescue you?"

Rain did not miss a beat. "Cygnus. Space Station Cygnus. They- _Dot_ and _Pittstop_ -they found me wandering around minus a memory."

"Oh. Amnesia story, hu?"

"Not quite. I was a slave girl, owned by Shuzuul Dyy, Lord of Scum. I was his bath servant."

Rodimus lost his attitude. "I'm sorry. I didn't know."

Rain pursed her lips and looked to the wall on her right. "I was so traumatized that Pissant had to erase my past just so I could function like a normal person. When Parthon learned about Shuzuul Dyy's dirty laundry, the captain tipped an assassin to clean up that side of the station. Every time we visit Cygnus, I mark the wall of his old territory in memory of my freedom."

Rodimus let silence slip between them for a moment. "You're sassy, girl. But you speak my language."

The dimples in her smile signified a silent peace pact between them.

 **-INCLINATION-**

Dinner.

Bookworm planted side dishes accentuated with crispy insects, fish and edible flowers. He arranged dinner biscuits in a pryamid and a roast done perfectly with an amazing balance of fat and lean meat.

Rusti swore she never saw a more beautiful setting, even during Christmas at Aunt Missy's.

" _Eeeough!_ " Rodimus grunted. "Who in their right mind eats this much food?" As if to answered Rodimus' question Magnus squeezed past him and Rusti.

Speaking of Magnus, he sat first and scanned the table. "Where's the hot sauce?"

Pipsqueak, who nosed through a book, scoffed at him. "I dare you to _drink_ that swill straight!"

Magnus glowered at her under his brows and set his square jaw: " _Bring it, Darling!_ "

Rain's voice called from the hall: "Look who's heeeer!" She and Parthon emerged into the dining room. Their captain slightly staggered under Rain's support as they crossed the threshold.

"Captain!" Pipsqueak exclaimed. She jumped from her chair and tugged his in place then she and Rain gently scooted him close to the table.

"I heard there was food," the weakened man announced.

Pipsqueak reclaimed her chair while Rain poured him a glass of wine. "Bookworm's best!" they chimed.

Galvatron entered with Dot and tagging behind them came Pittstop carrying Pissant. Cyclonus arrived with Optimus who, to Rusti's delight, wore a pair of white corduroy pants and a muscle tee.

Bookworm peered round the kitchen wall and looked pleased. "Ah yes, the shirt is a good fit," he said to Prime. "So glad to help."

Optimus sat beside Rusti and their lips touched. She smiled before they parted and admired the physic beside her. "Love the look," she purred. "What's the occasion?"

Prime hesitated and glanced away. Cyclonus answered in his stead: "Daniel," he growled. "We both had to shower."

"Oh." Rusti paused. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry he's such a pain in the ass."

Cyclonus shrugged. "It's nothing an extended stay at Torquelon cannot fix."

Galvatron sniggered then burst into laughter. "How do we know they're even open for business, Cyclonus?"

the Decepticon lieutenant shook his head but his eyes smiled. "They sent me a bill in 2014. Sadly, I seemed to have misplaced the invoice."

Rodimus, who was drinking tea, choked on it. Everyone else sent Cyclonus confused stares.

Rusti's mousy tones broke the awkward silence. "What's uh.. .what.."

Galvatron piled his plate with goodies from every dish. "Cerebral suckers, Mizz Rusti," he said flippantly. "They entrap you with goo that turns crusty and they drill your cranium chamber with personal questions. 'What size and type of filters do you use? Do you bathe or sanitize? What is the chemical make up of your emissions?" He paused with a private grin. "They learned _far more_ about _me_ than they liked."

Captain Parthon chuckled. "Aye-aye," he said raising his glass. "The last doctor I scared off told me with no uncertainty I was the _worst_ patient he's ever had."

Pissant snorted. "I'll be amazed if this new doctor will keep you after this coming visit."

Dot: "Your cynicism, Pissant, is noted and filed into the closest disposal."

"No it iZZn't!" the hand-sized creature objected. "If my comment was ignored, you would not have made _that_ comment!" he ripped off a piece of leaf and noisily chewed.

Pipsqueak changed the subject. "Are we going tomorrow, Captain? Are we heading for Cygnus?"

"Have to," Parthon answered. "Already missed one appointment,."

Cloudy added hot sauce to her slab of meat. "Is this space station a hospital of sorts?"

No, Hon-bun," Dot croaked. "There are good medical facilities, but it's not a floating hospital."

"It's a city," Rain added. "A _large_ city. They add new sections every decade or so. Depends on how much money they can collect from the permies."

"The _permies_?" Rusti asked.

Rain shrugged. "Permanent residents. "The station offers a large number of hotels and a small number of lavish apartments."

"Well," Parthon cut in. "The zoo is the best part of the whole station."

"Not if they're showcasing sapients," Dot grumbled. "The Backner family's been warned and fined often enough."

"It's still a good zoo," the captain insisted.

Pissant snorted. "The freak show is better."

Parthon sneered, " _what_ freak show?"

"The one I"m looking at _right now!_ " A blob of gravy splattered Pissant's left side. He twisted about and examined his besmirched shell. "HEY! What the Torments do you think you're doing?!" He eyed Rain who feigned innocence.

"Oops. It slipped off."

Pissant's voice neared a higher pitch. "I am a creature above and beyond your meager comprehension! I built mighty things that devoured _WHOLE WORLDS! And you said 'oops'?_ How dare you _!_ "

Before she realized it, Rusti jumped from her chair and spoke words not her own: "YOU LITTLE WORM! I _knew_ I knew who you were the moment I laid eyes on you! _Emwaslth, sli'kikik!_ You, who wallowed in the bowels of Torments!"

"HEY!" Pissant objected. His little voice squealed like a mouse in a tantrum. "That's RUDE. Who do you think you are speaking to me like that?! HU?"

With her palms planted on the table, Rusti leaned over and grinned. "I'll never tell, _Primacron._ And I can't tell you how _delicious_ it is to see you in such a state! Let me guess: a certain ambassador from the Centarus system condemned you to your current state of existence."

Pissant pointed at Rusti. "Revenge is MINE! Be assured the matter between me and Ambassador Koontah is NOT OVER!"

Parthon laughed and drained his third glass of wine. "If that's true, _Werm_ , the ambassador deserves an award."

Pissant slimed his way down the long table and gave Parthon the one stink-eye reserved specifically for the captain. "Do I _look_ like a _worm_ to you? Hm?"

"Well," the captain drawled, "your butt wiggles when you move. You're squirmy and slimy and eat moldy vegetation."

Pissant squinted one eye and glowered. "You're a despicable man, Captain."

"And _that_ , Pissant, is the _only_ reason we get along: mutual animosity."

Rain yawned loudly and stretched. "Seriously? Watching varnish dry is more interesting than you two right now."

Parthon took his turn to glower. Pissant sneered but only the captain spoke: "Never despair, Rain, my dear. We'll be going shopping at the Cygnus tomorrow. And _yes, lots of ice cream._ Good 'nuff?"

"Eh, I double-suppose, Captain. Who's going to put up with Pissant, though?"

"HEY!" the mollusk snapped. "Enough of the pet jokes! I appoint _Cyclonus_ to chaperone me around."

All eyes turned in Cyclonus' direction. He stared at the sapient animal with nonplused disgust. "Why?"

"WHY?" Pissant echoed as if insulted.

Galvatron got involved and masticated a hunk of meat as if to own it. "Cyclonus attends no one but me," he growled.

Pissant narrowed his mean little eyes.

 **-INCLINATION-**

"SSC Space Dock 2-9-Gwith, this is Captain Parthon of the Infraction requesting a day pass on board. Over."

" _Reading you,_ _Infraction_ _. Welcome back, Captain and Crew. Please be aware there will be no photon charges allowed on board. No pets on decks 16 and up. All children must be accompanied by an adult and all stimulation or poisoned drinks must be relegated to bars or motel rooms only."_

The entry way opened wide, treating the travelers a landscape view into the space station's boarding port. Rusti, who was accustomed to seeing a variety of life forms, stared at the wave of people as if she'd never seen extra-terrestrials before. Even her time on Lunarphyte or Cratis could not have prepared her for the diversity coming and going before them.

She did not know what to do or where to go first. "Wait," she said to everyone, "We don't have any money. We don't have anything to exchange for goods and services."

Cyclonus' quiet voice lifted with some hope. "Isn't that too bad?" he eyed the slimy mollusk stationed on his left shoulder. "I suppose our holiday has been cut short."

"What are you looking at _me_ for?" Pissant snapped. "You expecting me to pull coins out my ass?"

"Not at all," Cyclonus replied smoothly. "Only that your shipmates will continue on their journey while the rest of us, _including you_ , will have to wait on the Infraction. Or is that too simple for you to grasp?"

Pissant squawked. "WHAT?! Do you not realize how seldom we visit this place?"

Galvatron folded his arms. "Are we supposed to care?"

" _Gnag!_ You people are a pain in the tail!" Pissant spat an icky glop of goo and Cyclonus stepped back to avoid it.

Something wiggled in Rusti's jacket pocket. She and her shipmates all produced shiny metal cards, each with their own names on them.

"One hundred _plix_ ," Pissant announced. "Don't be stupid with it." He snorted. His voice lit with excitement. "Onward, Cyclonus!"

With a disgruntled groan, Cyclonus complied.

At first the group stayed together, following Rain, Pipsqueak and Pittstop from one store or outlet hut to another. They shared a light snack of deep fried yumminess and drinks with cups that made funny sounds. They watched a short holographic presentation featuring 'Super Morphic Dogs' and their owners. The group pressed on to other places once Pipsqueak declared she had shopping to do. Captain Parthon excused himself to his doctor's appointment and Bookworm disappeared into an herb and spice store.

Cloudy wanted to follow Pipsqueak and learn more about the quadrant's native technology. But Rain caught her sleeve. "This is an awful big place for you guys to split up and end up lost. How about a game room?"

None of them looked either excited or interested.

She bribed, begged and threatened the Autobots into joining her.

Optimus finally obliged first then Galvatron. Rodimus followed last, unenthused and unimpressed.

Rusti expected some sort of flashy, sensory-overloading gambling room. But the place offered more than craps, cards and casino chips. One room offered a dance center. Another held fierce video game competitions. There were tables filled with buttons and two or more places people drank and played cards. TV screens along a long bar provided everything from animation movies to space weather. And to Rusti's surprise, one TV played an old black and white show from Earth. As she watched the animated show, she heard Galvatron and Optimus talk privately.

"It's very crowded here. Are you going to be okay?" Optimus asked their friend.

"I think so, as long as no one climbs all over me." Galvatron quietly answered. "If I can't take it, I'll just step outside and wait. Or better yet, I'll return to the Infraction."

"As long as you don't simply disappear-" Optimus warned.

Rusti heard the smile in Galvatron's voice: "I know you're concerned, Prime. But don't forget, it's Mizz Rusti who's my chaperone."

At the game room's far back stood four long pool tables, scarcely occupied. Again Rusti thought it strange that something from Earth ended up in another portion of the galaxy. Thinking on it, she realized that most likely, travelers and traders exchanged information and merchandise, some of which ended here.

Magnus also noticed the tables and egged Galvatron and Rodimus into a game. At first the guys played with caution and bickered over the rules. But by the third play, they organized into teams of one. Magnus and Galvatron took to it with abandon.

Rodimus played for a while but found he was poor competition once Magnus won his fifth round. Galvatron, however, relished the challenge and thereafter, three quarters of the room gathered round the table to watch the mechs trade turns and crass comments.

Magnus' moves were magnificently strategic. But Galvatron's smart remarks and brilliant tactics held the crowd's attention.

Half an hour into the intense, if comedic affair, Rodimus slipped out and paced in the lobby. He heard the crowd applaud Galvatron's second victory and Magnus called for a rematch by which the crowd cheered with greater enthusiasm. The Autobot leader smirked and shook his head. Whether he liked it, trusted it, or not, Galvatron and Cyclonus were a part of their clique.

Rodimus watched a small group of alien males pass by a clothing shop, laughing and making animated noises. Perhaps, Roddi thought, perhaps 'clique' wasn't the right word. 'Friends', maybe?

He thought harder. Galvatron, in spite of his deplorable history, did everything he could to prove himself honestly changed. But he never over-corrected himself. Galvatron was _genuine_. No sob story retold, no trickery or suspicious activities. And whatever horrors happened on Bare Anches, Galvatron stuck with them.

Rodimus came to realize Galvatron really was more than an ally; he was a _brother_.

Rodimus choked on that thought and his face and eyes burned before a tear escaped.

He didn't cry over Galvatron so much as he cried for himself because Rodimus knew as surely as he breathed, that he deserved nothing of the sort. His chest ached when he recalled the people he tortured and murdered under the feverish wiles of the Virus.

He remembered their pleas and prayers and the _blood_ and the screams-

"Hi!"

Rodimus hiccuped, startled. Rain appeared from nowhere and in her hands she two held plastic cups filled with creamy swirly-something.

"Figured you were a little lost in culture-shock. So I got you a frost-fluff."

He swallowed the emotions and wiped his face with a sleeve. "Wow. Thanks."

"Not one for chaunko, I see." she sipped her swirl.

" _Chaunko?_ " he echoed.

Second sip. Rain nodded toward the game room. "What they're playing."

"Right." he tried using the straw but nothing happened. Roddi watched her twice before figuring things out for himself.

Rain nodded two o' clock of their position. "Come on."

"Where to?"

"The zoo. We might find your long-lost cousin."

Rusti couldn't tell if she nudged Optimus, suggesting they leave or if he nudged her. Either way, they politely slipped out. Cyclonus tagged when Pissant goaded him.

At first the trio meandered from one store front to another until a refreshment stand caught Rusti's attention; or more accurately, her nose.

"I smell coffee!" she bee-lined, dragging Optimus with her. She almost asked him if he had coffee, but caught herself. She plucked up a menu and held it under Cyclonus' nose. "Can you read this, Pissant?"

" _Mister Pissant_ , to you! And yes. So can you."

"Thank you," she sang.

The server approached them at the counter bar. Her soft orange eyes darted nervously from Pissant to Cyclonus then Optimus. "Excuse me," she said with a slight reverb, "but if that is an Oogli'bian Snail, I'll have to ask you to leave. They're poisonous to some people."

Rusti blinked as Optimus peered past her. "I do not think you need to worry, Miss," the Autobot leader answered politely. "The only thing poisonous about him is his attitude. He's a shipmate who ran into the wrong person."

"Oh!" the girl momentarily covered her teeth and clicked her tongue. "Ran into a Th'Kuuvian mage, did you? My cousin did too and he's a fish now." They all stared in disbelief, utterly wordless. The Barista maid forced a smile and planted her hands on the counter. "Can I get anyone something?"

"A massage," Pissant replied with a nasty smile.

Cyclonus glowered at him.

It took twenty minutes and the poor girl's last strand of patience for the group to order. Rusti never had coffee before. She ordered sweeter drinks for herself and Optimus and something slightly stronger for Cyclonus and a sticky caramel wafer for the (slug).

Optimus winced with surprise when the heat touched his lips. Rusti recognized the expression and silently taught him to blow on the coffee.

Cyclonus had no trouble took his coffee as if it were a soft drink.

Coffee wasn't enough for her so Rusti asked for a danish and split it with Optimus. She offered one to Cyclonus, also but he lost interest as he watched Pissant divulge into his icky-sticky wafer. Rusti stared at the mollusk as (it) crunched noisily on his candied snack. A moment more and Pissant spoke with a mouthful.

"What in your mind, _human_?" he squinted one eye.

"Just thinking about home," Rusti answered quietly. She felt better when Prime gently squeezed her hands.

Pissant scoffed. "What? You mean Earth? That's a pitiful thing to worry about."

"Are you kidding me?!" Rusti snapped. "Ohmigod! Earth is in danger of destruction by a collective of _freaks_ and you brush it off like it was _nothing?!"_

Pissant spat a glob on the table and his companions pulled hands and drinks from his vicinity. He spoke, unfazed by their reaction. "Don't give me 'Earth is in mortal danger' crap! Earth is getting _exactly_ what it earned."

"Don't say that!" Rusti hissed. " _Star Trek_ comes from Earth and I saw you watching it in the game room. You're all about Dr. McCoy."

Pissant folded his arms and with a nasal accent, mimicked Rusti's words. " _Star Trek comes from Earth._ Guess what? So does Islam, Post-It note pads, tofu and junk press." the snail held up his hand in defense. "Okay," he back-tracked. "Okay, I'll tell you what: there's _two_ things good about Earth: TWO. One: German roasted coffee. And two: Oscar the Grouch."

Rusti shook her head. "Unbelievable. You are incorrigible. And how do you know so much about Earth, anyway?"

Optimus nuzzled her hair and tickled her neck. "Let's go do something fun," he whispered.

She turned to him, thoroughly annoyed with Pissant. "I'm in the middle of an argument with a _slug_ ," she answered firmly. Rusti drew back, realizing what she just admitted.

" _SNAIL! SNA-IL!"_ Pissant slapped his own head in a fit. "What the runny shit is wrong with you?! Are you honestly so brain-dead that you can't tell the difference between a snail and a slug?"

"I refuse to insult a snail by calling you one!" Rusti paused then added: " _Maggot."_

"That's it. Tha-a-a-at's IT! Take your boyfriend-"

"Husband," Rusti corrected.

"-and go find something disgusting to do!"

Optimus drew closer to the mollusk, his expression neutral except for the twinkle in his eye. "We may not return," he warned.

"You'd _better_ ," Cyclonus answered abruptly. "You'd better not abandon me!"

Rusti stretched a sympathetic hand toward the Decepticon when Optimus stood and started to drag her away. "Hang in there, Cyclonus. We'll be back. I promise!"

Optimus and Rusti held hands as they bypassed a kitchen offering live insects slathered with a foul-scented brown sap. The stand beside it offered life insurance for deep-space travelers and their families. Next to that stood an alien with dark striped skin, marketing the tattoo parlor behind him. He rolled out a long spiked tongue pierced front to back with jeweled studs.

Optimus paused before the hairy, wiry male and pointed to his tongue. "Rusti, should I get one piercing or two?"

"No," She did not need to think it over. Optimus opened his mouth to say something and "No," she repeated. "No. I can think of better things to do with you-" she clamped her mouth with her own hand, her eyes turned wide.

The alien withdrew his tongue and cackled.

Optimus softly laughed and hugged her closer. "Beauty might be a fleeting thing, but it makes a better impression, don't you think?"

Rusti glanced at him twice as they crossed a four-way area punctuated by an animal stature surrounded by benches and trees. "Are you saying that when I'm old, grey and white-haired, I'd no longer be impressionable?"

He paused and stood before her so that she heard him clearly. "You are beautiful, Rusti. But that is not why I love you." She smiled and he continued: "You remained kind and compassionate even when I was lost in darkness. I have a scar, deep and hollow. And when you are with me, I feel like myself again." He smiled and Rusti's heart swelled so that words turned meaningless in the upsurge of emotion.

How did this happen? How did this moment, this dream, this unbelievable miracle come true? It was like winning a billion-dollar lottery. Even Cinderella never had a moment quite like this. How was anyone supposed to act or react to something like this? She wanted to kiss him but didn't know how. She wanted to wrap her whole body around him. She wanted to scream and dance and because they were in public, she had to bottle it all up; shove it down, down and lock it tight.

Staring into his Autobot-blue eyes, she settled for a caress over his cheek and recalled the rainstorm in Australia and what they shared then. And as passionate as she felt, Rusti kept her kiss light. He returned the kiss, crossing his lips over hers. He pressed his firm mouth against hers, one corner then the other. They broke and he kissed her fingers.

"How about another cup of coffee?"

She grinned. "Okay."

They searched round and far and found another little shop. Emboldened by their first experience, Optimus chose to order for them. Tall cups, lots of froth and chilled.

Rusti browsed the shop while they waited. She studied the walls decorated with art and magazine clippings from several different cultures.

The young man called their order and the couple sat at a little table and shared a slice of pie. Rusti half spooned, half drank her coffee while Optimus sipped his a little at a time. His eyes drifted across their surroundings until another couple entered the shop. The female wore loose clothing and a small felt hat. The male beside her wore a dark, earth-like suit and a handgun strapped securely to his upper thigh. When they turned round, Prime noticed the female was pregnant and the male led her to another small table and mannerly seated her first.

Attending his own coffee once more, Optimus noticed Rusti's loose jacket and shirt. He remembered the torn and dirty jeans she wore on Cratis. A fresh pair would be nice and he _liked_ her in jeans.

Prime stirred his drink. "Rusti, do you remember when I took you to some school clothes and I kept handing you things you couldn't wear?" He watched every slight movement she made and grinned when her forehead wrinkled in concentration.

Perplexed, she tilted her head. "Optimus... ohmigod, I was like, what? Seven? I barely remember that. How do you remember things so well?"

He dropped the stare and sipped his drink. "You cannot be an Autobot officer of any sort without a good memory. Although, some of us have better memory banks than others." he paused then leaned slightly forward. "There was this femme," he said softly, "who was lucky if she remembered her present coordinates, let alone her assignment. It was a _milk run_. All she had to do was drive to the next town south and pick up a subrouter diagnostics adapter." Optimus chuckled, his grin infectious. "She took the wrong turnoff and drove a hundred and ninety miles to Level Three and ended up in the parking lot of a tar crane assembly plant." He almost could not hold his laughter back, "She called base and said the crazy bots at the plant had melted all the adapters and she had no idea where the subrouters went!"

They laughed and Optimus finished his drink. Rusti ate the last bite of pie and Optimus led her out the café and down another lane of store. They passed a soap shop, a 3D wildlife theater and a small-children's play area. Across the mini playground, Optimus spotted what he was after. Without warning Rusti, he dragged her to a men's/masculine clothing emporium and stopped short at the display window. He smiled broader by the second as his gaze switched from one modeled outfit to another and pointed to a suit much like Earth business attire.

"I've always wanted to try something like that."

Rusti stared at the charcoal grey blazer. It did look sharp with a two-button closure and a notch lapel. Confused, she panned her eyes between the clothes and Optimus and shook her head. "Aren't you feeling the least bit awkward in an organic form?"

His gaze ate up the sight with growing interest. "I don't feel all that different, Rusti," he answered with a more leveled voice. "There are differences. But there are more similarities than you might think." He dropped his attention to her. "Now, if the 'outfit' came with a tail, yes, I suppose I'd feel awkward."

"A _tail_ ," she repeated. "A _tail_?"

"It's like having an arm or leg growing off your spine. I didn't like it. No matter how straight the face, the damn tail betrayed my mood."

Rusti twisted her face with disbelief. "You've had a _tail_ before?" she squeaked when he dragged her inside. The scent of fresh material and oiled leather unmistakenly identified the place as a male-oriented outlet. Even the well-dressed clerks were masculine, albeit not necessarily human.

Speaking of alien, one such sapient approached them. The wavy ridges along his head turned lighter while his dark eyes reflected calm. "Good afternoon, Sir, Miss. Can I help you find anything?"

Optimus nodded toward the entrance. "The suit in the display. I'd like to try one."

The clerk stammered. "Ah. Uhh..."

"I think it's the blazer," Rusti explained.

"Ah! Very good," the clerk praised. "If you'll follow me, I can show you our amazing variety. Perhaps... long-sleeved shirts first?"

He was not exaggerating. What looked like a small shop outside spread into a department store inside. Shirts of every size and shape hung from walls, lined along racks or waited in carefully folded piles.

Optimus read everything in a single glance and headed for the long sleeved shirt. As he paged a circular rack Rusti explained to the clerk that they had traveled a long distance and did not know what Optimus' size might be.

Prime chose an ice blue shirt with two pockets and an extended tail. He held it against himself and silently asked his wife what she thought. Rusti patiently smiled as the clerk returned with a measuring tape. In three swift moves, he calculated Optimus' size and almost escaped.

Prime laid a hand on his shoulder and nodded toward Rusti. "Would you kindly take her measurements also?"

"Oh no," Rusti objected with a smile. "We're here to dress you up, Optimus. I'm just the audience."

"Until it's your turn," he added.

Her smile dropped off. "What?" she dodged the crafty clerk once, ducked, failed then glared when he measured her waist.

"Ten," the clerk announced, "respectively."

"Excellent," Optimus praised. "I like this one." he handed the shirt to the clerk and nosed toward trousers and slacks. He paid no attention as the alien fellow silently huffed and searched for the appropriate size.

Rusti leaned toward the male with small eyes and flat white hair. "Sorry," she whispered. "Must be a sugar high." She tapped round the three racks of shirts to catch up with the Autobot leader and found him comparing one coat against another.

"Rusti," he said without meeting her eyes, "help me find that blazer."

"We could just ask the cl-" she stopped short, "-how did you know it was called a blazer?"

"Labels, Darling." He gathered four coats he chose from different racks and hung them together on the wrong rack. "I'm sure it's around here."

"Man on a mission," she muttered.

The clerk found them and handed her the shirt. "Ah, does the gentleman wish for an undershirt? Or a second shirt, perhaps?"

Rusti stammered, uncertain. "Uhh, I'm not sure-"

"This is it!" Optimus declared. He spun about and held the blazer against his chest. "This one. Oh, you have the shirt I see. Very good!"

The clerk masked his annoyance with a well practiced smile. "Is that the color of your preference, Sir?"

Rusti tugged the shirt out of the alien's hands. "Yes," she answered him, "an undershirt would be fab. A muscle shirt, if that's alright. And a pack of boxers, since you know his size."

She turned back and startled when he suddenly stood in front of her. "Let's get you a nice outfit and we'll go out to dinner."

"Optimus, we don't even know how much-"

"No suit for you, Rusti. You need something pretty." His solid blue eyes settled on her with an eager gleam. He laid the blazer on a nearby shelf and touched her hair. "I've always loved your hair." That made her smile and she diverted her eyes. He kissed her on the right jaw just above her neck. "And I've always loved you... here." He peeled away her jacket and shirt and softly kissed her shoulder. "... and I love you here."

Her hands sweated as her stomach fluttered. Rusti's eyes widened when he knelt before her, discreetly lifted her shirt and kissed her midriff. "And I love you here."

She clamped a hand over her mouth when he kissed the button on her pants then kissed her at the crotch. "And I love you here."

Unable to breathe, Rusti glanced around them to see if anyone saw that. Shocked, embarrassed and turned on, she lost all ability to speak. She gave him a toothy, shit-eating grin when Optimus stood and met her eyes. "O-Optimus-"

"I need trousers," he grabbed the blazer and shot away, leaving her aghast.

 **-INCLINATION-**

Rodimus and Rain approached, gawked and passed one caged creature after another. Roddi thought most of the animals were ugly; primates were especially hideous. The reptiles were cool but the birds captivated his attention. Their colors and songs beckoned him to linger even when Rain insisted they visit the pet shop.

A tamerad, a creature with enormous eyes, a fuzzy coat and slow movements, stare back at him. Rodimus palmed the window between them and understood what it meant to be on display. He did not know which was worse: an animal in a cage, scrutinized by strangers; or an Autobot leader expected to have all answers and held to a registry of standards that would make a demigod cringe. At least the tamerad did not deal with concerns and plans all hours of the day and night. The zoo had closing hours and off-days.

Rain leaned against the thick glass and watched Roddi with a smile. "Are you waiting for it to blink?"

"No. Just feeling sorry for it."

"Most of the animals here are extinct in their natural habitats. The Backner family has worked tireless for generations to save animals like this."

Rodimus frowned. "Perhaps one day they'll have an Autobot on display," Roddi turned away with a sigh. They entered another room exhibiting giant insects.

"You know," Rain said, "I have two ears."

Rodimus tugged at his own ears. "Wow. I have a set of my own. I used to have audio sensors. Sometimes I even use them to hear myself speak. Know why? Cuz I'm the _Prime_. And when no one else wants to hear me, I can always listen to myself. Makes it cool, doesn't it?"

Rain hesitated. "Hm. I'm beginning to wonder if the batch they made you from had a little too much sarcasm sauce in it."

Then Rodimus grinned. "No, no," he corrected, "sarcasm is a _job requirement_."

"Really?" she challenged. "In your case, I'd have to classify it as a defense mechanism."

Rodimus threw his arms up. "Do you ever-"

"PLUCKY!" Rain interrupted. She sprinted through a forest of people and hugged a blue-skinned fellow with the weight of a paperclip. "Didn't see you either at dinner or breakfast. What's moving under your feet?"

Rodimus rolled his eyes and joined them as the Infraction's supply officer answered Rain: "'Member that contact-person I said about a week ago?"

"Yes."

"He's here. He wants t' talk."

"Sweet." Rain smiled at Rodimus who, in turn, frowned. Socializing sounded too much like work.

Plucky pointed at her. "Not going alone," he added frankly.

Rain grimaced. "I don't speak-"

"Doesn't matter," Plucky said curtly. "I just don't feel comfortable facing a Vicin alone."

"A Vicin?" Rodimus repeated.

"Tu," came Plucky's affirmation. "You know about them?"

"No," the Autobot leader returned. "But I'm into learning new things. A Vicin can't be worse than that _oothoth_ primate, right?"

Roddi accompanied his shipmates into a small, dark café. A frothy, pink liquid sat on nearly every table. A sweet, pungent odor wafted from it, making Rodimus slightly nauseous.

Plucky lead them to a booth backlit by a large, soothing aquarium.

The Vicin in question, a biped with the skin of an earth shark and a strange, glowing headset, slowly stirred a drink the likes of which Rodimus could describe only as thick and blue.

"Jakden!" Plucky greeted, "what's on the upside of your reality?"

The alien in question glibly nodded and tapped the crystalline headpiece. The device spoke for him, but the vicin's mouth never moved. "Happiness to you and your attendees," the translator stated stiffly.

Plucky nodded to the Vicin's half empty drink. "Can I get you a refill, friend?"

"No. No. I purchase refreshment for my acquaintances. Plucky, you weigh smaller from time afore."

For showmanship, Plucky snapped the sleeve cuffs forward and straightened his collar. "Bookworm has learned how to make water lichen pie. And let me tell you, friend, it is a _delicacy_."

Jakden laughed, lifted his beverage and took three gulps before the Vicin realized his translator slipped off. He reattached it with a sheepish smile. "Forgiveness, if you please. We have no customary procedures for such devices. Such is the fate of telepaths"

"No worries," Plucky replied. "So how goes it on the Outer Lying Areas?"

"More military presence in cities. Rumors say Psyklenex changed his own world. He drains the planet's life forces, leaves it barren and rocky.

"Interesting rumor. Interesting theory." Plucky smiled at the rotund waiter who now loomed over their table. "How about salisayzian tea with a twist of ipple berry juice? Three, if you please."

Rodimus forced himself to keep a straight face. "Nipple berry juice?"

Rain laughed. " _Ipple berry_ , dong-dong."

Jackdon leaned over his drink. "Need to tell, Plucky. Tell Dot the Flaming Afflictor has increased his army. They make things that wear the skeletons of the dead."

Plucky narrowed his eyes and his brows wrinkled. "Here now, good friend. Are you saying Psykee is playing geneticist?"

"Splicing?" Jackdon corrected. The translator awkwardly rumbled, imitating quiet laughter. "Un-say that one, Plucky. Psyklenex needs no such clumsiness. His _Oracle of Creation_ does the work. Yet, rumors are that the Oracle does not create life, but steals it from elsewhere. Its power is great."

That piqued Roddi's curiosity. "Who's the Flaming Afflictor and what's this Oracle you guys are yapping about? I thought oracles were people who, you know, told the future." Roddi met each person's eyes and felt out of place.

"Mmm." Jackden nodded slowly and grasped his drink with both hands. "The Flaming Afflictor is Psyklenex. He has learned how to set the atmosphere on fire. His body count is long and grievous. Psyklenex refers the Great Device as the Oracle because, he claims, it speaks of many things; of histories long, long lost. It tells of events, news from far away, so that Psyklenex can plan his assault and expand his power."

Roddi's eyes narrowed. "So this same thing-a-majig, whatever it might be, also allows him to instill life into his soldiers like..." Rodimus paused to consider Vector Sigma. He realized for the first time in his life that he did not even know _what_ Vector Sigma was. "...like instant artificial intelligence?"

Jackdon tapped his translator as his face twisted with confusion. "Explain for me this word."

Plucky glanced from his 'source' to Rodimus. When it was clear the Autobot leader was at a loss himself, Plucky took a sip of tea and gazed at Jackdon. "Translator can't tell you what 'artificial' means?"

"Pretend or falsified intellect makes no sense."

"Ah." Plucky winked at Rodimus. "Artificial intellect, my friend, is like your mother in-law attempting to cook dinner."

The Vicin's body jiggled with laughter, though he made no sound. His head bobbed, shoulders bounced up and down. "Non-sapient intellect," he deduced. "Oh, Plucky, let me invite you to a party." he sobered and drained his drink. "I know nothing of the Oracle's means of intelligence, Friend," he said to Roddi. "Information on that is not found."

Plucky nodded impatiently. "The Bones People, Jackdon. Remember? You said you had words about the Bones People. Are there any left?"

"Thirty-nine," Jackdon replied. "Yes. Thirty-nine at count. Escapees, Plucky. Parthon must act swift and strong. They have ' _pacted_ ' to self-terminate. And then there will be no more Bones People."

 **-INCLINATION-**

Optimus bypassed three dress shops before finding one he liked. The selection looked more like street wear than formal fashion and although Rusti had doubts at first, she found his choices delightful.

She stepped out the dressing room wearing a pair of denims bound at the sides with shoe-string leather. The denims tapered down, allowing full view of her red pumps. And while Rusti wore casual waist-down, her blouse was formal; white with puffy sleeves tied snugly at the mid-upper arms and cuffed loosely at the wrist. The blouse dropped to mid-abdomen and buttoned back up.

Prime proudly appraised her and held out a hand, inviting her to approach. He guided her to stand before a mirror and stood behind, hands on her shoulders. "This is how I see you, Little Bell." he dipped his head and purred into her ear, " _Scrumptious, curly red hair._ "

She freely laughed, twisted round about and their lips met and lingered. She opened her mouth slightly and he kissed her lower lip. Emboldened, she ran her tongue along his teeth and her stomach fluttered. He kissed her again just past the lips before bringing her hands up and kissed her ring.

"What do you say to rescuing Cyclonus from that dreadful miniature punk demon?"

She turned her head slightly. "'Dreadful?" she repeated. "Is that actually in your vocabulary?"

"Interesting question, considering I never read _Alice in Wonderland_."

She lifted a finger. "Point _almost_ made, Optimus."

His smile turned subtle, chin dipped in the manner Rusti always thought adorable. "You are clearly Alice. But would I be the White Rabbit or the Mad Hatter?"

"Optimus," she replied frankly, "if you've never read _Alice in Wonderland_ , how could you be either?"

"Because I know you've read it. More than once."

He trailed out the store, her confused expression lingered. "What?"

They returned to the coffee bar and Cyclonus. At first both Rusti and Optimus Prime stared, perplexed. The humanoid Decepticon sported a pair of sunglasses and held a book between his hands. To his left, Pissant amused himself with a crossword puzzle.

Rusti tilted her head, leaned over and scrutinized the Decepticon lieutenant, bewildered and fascinated. She flinched when he looked up and lowered the sunglasses. "I don't believe it," she said. "You actually look good in those."

Pissant's little voice pipped: "incorrect preposition."

They ignored him.

Prime sat and tucked their old clothes under the chair. "What are you reading, Cyclonus?"

"Mystery novel," came the quiet reply.

Pissant added another word to the paper awkwardly using a pen with both hands. "Cyclonus is an avid reader. However, no amount of reading will ever improve his intellect."

Optimus folded his hands on the table and turned quiet. Rusti glanced from him to Cyclonus and held the moment close to her heart. Optimus looked perfectly dapper. Cyclonus resembled a plainclothes federal agent. She wondered how a fedora might look on them.

Pissant scribbled the last word on the puzzle and dropped the pen. "Captain _Not-So-Pragmatic_ ought to be contacting us soon," the mollusk twisted his upper body to the right and frowned at Cyclonus. "I'd suggest leaving Ultra Magnus and Galvatron on their own, were it not for your co-dependant loyalty toward 'His Turdiness,' the _former_ leader of the Decepticons."

Cyclonus closed his book and slid it into his jacket. "And that," he answered deadpan, "is likely the nicest thing you've said all day."

Rusti sensed something behind them. She glanced over her shoulder and grinned. "Roddi!"

"Hey Lady-Friend." he brought up two chairs from another table and he and Rain sat side by side.

Plucky joined them a second later as he checked a hand-held electronic pad. "Gots news from Captain P?" he asked.

Pissant folded his tiny arms. "Do I look like a telecommunications center or a telepath to you? And where are Bookworm and Pittstop?"

Plucky pointed at the (slug) "not the babysitter. And hey, listen up: we gotta am-scray. Mr Giggles says those Bones won't be taken alive. Don't know how much time we have. It's a six-turns trip to Mechlatex."

" _PLUCKY!"_

The distant shout caught Rain's and Plucky's attention. From their south, Bookworm squeezed through a group of young females. He ducked and covered his head with a catalogue when one girl smacked him with her wallet.

"Sorry," he offered. "Sorry. Excuse me. PLUCKY!" he repeated, "We need to leave _now_." he caught up, heaving and burdened with a large backpack, the thick catalogue and a large duffle.

Rain glared at him. "What did you do, Book?"

"Nuthing." the doctor/chef answered. "Honest to Osiris. I was perusing an isle of herbs when two One-Face _feckles_ came into the store asking about Automatrons."

"If that's the case," Pissant said firmly, "if there is an Automatron here, we are not leaving until we find him."

Rusti intervened: "Uh, what's a _feckle_?"

"It's slang," Rain answered, "derogatory for the single-faced Quintessons. And Pissant, it will take days for us to find anyone in this floating city." she paused. "Especially if you've changed their forms to blend in. By which case, Pissant, it makes you unscrupulous."

The mollusk gave her the stink eye. "Not so, _Pet_ ," he objected. "I'd be unscrupulous only if I did not care about an endangered species. It's my one feature that kept me out of the Pitt. "Now, my Ghoulish groupies, let's find Galvatron and Ultra Magnus before the One-faces get suspicious."

They returned to the boisterous and busy game room. Crowds sectioned around tables and cloistered at the bar like bees attending a field of flowers. The Infraction's crew discovered a fresh swarm of bodies around the pool tables. When they saw neither Galvatron nor Magnus, they split up.

Cyclonus and Pissant found Cloudy at a table besieged by players and an attentive audience. To the Decepticon's amazement, they played poker. He too watched until the femme recognized him and smiled a little too happily. And with good reason: she accumulate a large number of chips and coins stacked to her left. "Cyclonus!" she welcomed him with a free and open expression. "Come on! Join us?"

"No. We are departing."

She blinked, more surprised than disappointed. "Darn. Well... we'll have to get Magnus and... and what's-His-Name."

Cyclonus blinked, taken back by her behavior. She surprised him further when the usually shy Cloudstreaker abruptly stood, finished half a mug of light blue fluid and divided her earnings 30/70. "Love you guys!" she declared loudly. "But duty calls. I'm taking this cut-" she scooped the thirty percent into her pockets. "And you sweet fellas can play with the rest. Okey-dokey?"

The men enjoyed her gift but whined, stood and gave her parting hugs. A female did the same and thanked her for teaching them something different. They put several feet between them and the players before Cloudy jingled the coins in her pockets. "I need to cash-out. Magnus is in the next room." She pointed left, "you'll have to call for him at the door.

Cyclonus frowned. "I am not inclined to make a spectacle of myself."

Cloudy's cheeks lifted with another smile. "He's wrestling. You'll have to shout loudly!"

Pissant cackled as with glee over his bearer's reluctance. "Didn't anyone teach you how to whistle, Decepticon?"

"SH!"

Pissant continued to snigger.

They wove through the jungle of bodies and around tables and passed machines so that Cloudy could cash out. From there, she and Cyclonus wound and rounded their way to a set of sturdy doors. A nearby waiter opened the way for them and the femme led Cyclonus into a room impossibly crowded by more people. The stench of body sweat, cheap food and adrenaline assailed Cyclonus' senses and he winced. The further in they pushed, the stronger the smells.

After squeezing and excusing their way to the ring Cyclonus insisted they wait until Magnus saw them.

Headlocked by some tall alien with deep purple skin, Ultra Magnus struggled to gain a foothold. He gasped for air twice before punching his opponent at the back of the knee. The other wrestler lost balance. Magnus broke free, rolled to the ropes and pressed against them. The ropes bounced him like a ball and Magnus applied the momentum into his left shoulder so that when Giant Purple stood, he took full brunt of the Autobot's weight and strength.

Giant Purple bounced against the ropes, too but he did not have the Major-General's refined reflexes. Magnus stepped back as his opponent splat the mat face-first.

The referee slid to the giant and counted: ONE, TWO-

Giant Purple made an effort to move but the wind left him and he remained sprawled like road kill.

The bell danged and a round of applause followed Magnus who characteristically folded his arms. His expression reflected great confidence.

"Who else wants to try their physic against the _J-Chan_?" the referee traveled pole to pole on the square mat. A few hands raised but Magnus spotted Cyclonus and took the mic out of the short referee's hand.

"ROCK to all a' you!" he boomed.

The crowd responded: "ROCK! ROCK! ROCK!"

Cyclonus scanned the room, baffled. First Cloudstreaker, now this? What got into them? And was it contagious?

Magnus apologized for disappointing his new-found fandom. He grinned like an idiot when several females declared their undying love. He waved to them. And waved and waved until Cyclonus gripped his wrestling pants and pulled him out the door.

The door closed and Magnus turned about with a ridiculous grin. " _J-Chan_!" he beamed. "I will always be _J-Chan_!"

Cyclonus shook his head with a measure of disapproval. "Mmmm."

They rejoined the others outside and all eyes stared at a sweaty, happy Magnus, or rather, at Magnus' wrestling pants. Cloudy blushed and averted her interest at the nearby tree.

Optimus kept a straight face but everyone heard the smile in his voice: "Had fun, Ultra Magnus?"

Hands on hips, Magnus dropped his head and grinned. "Don't tell anyone, okay? And what's with the suit?" Magnus waited for the answer but Optimus did not come forth. The mostly-naked Major-general wiped his drenched forehead and hair. "Maybe I should get one."

Optimus nodded. "Where is Galvatron?"

"Hell if I know."

 **-INCLINATION-**

Once Galvatron won eight games in a row, the crowd faded and Magnus heard the invite to a wrestling match. He tried to get Galvatron involved, but the Decepticon turned him down; too many bodies in one place. He needed air.

Though he said nothing to Magnus during their engagement, Galvatron sensed something lurking amid the crowd. It departed by the middle of their final game and Galvatron's instincts demanded a hunt.

Confident his companions, both of whom drank three or four mugs of _By-You Blue_ were safely preoccupied, Galvatron stepped out on his own.

Suppressing his phobia as much as he could, Galvatron ignored the colorful sea of faces that came and departed. He concentrated on the feel of shadow; a distinct _taste_ in the air. He wondered whether the entity of interest was an odd alien species or something he should not face alone.

A burst of bodies exited a cinema. Children, adults and some creature with floating eyeballs milled around Galvatron. Two people ran directly into him and excused themselves. Another person shouted for him to move. Another wave of bodies exited the cinema and Galvatron tried to get away. The overwhelming sense of excitement and turmoil of noise and smells forced him to close his eyes and stop breathing. Galvatron's heart raced and he froze. All those bodies, the rhythm of each life force drowned his thoughts.

" _Auschu_ ," The voice cut through the storm. It repeated and the area around Galvatron cleared and calmed. He relaxed, opened his eyes and faced a female dressed in dark robes. She lifted her hand as her hazel eyes projected concern. "Are you all right? Are you having a panic attack?"

Galvatron trembled and clutched his chest. "I... I'm fine. Just... I don't like noise. Not like that."

"Aww. That's not good. My cousin Wretha's second daughter suffers agoraphobia. Let's sit down and moment, shall we?"

Galvatron allowed her to coax him onto a nearby bench. For a moment he lost touch with reality and his surroundings.

Again the female's voice penetrated the cloud of disorientation "Are you alone?"

"Eh? No," Galvatron made a quick rundown of his current surroundings. In spite of his rescuer's thoughtfulness, Galvatron felt uncomfortable around her. "Thank you. Erm, I need to go."

"Are you alone?"

Wasn't she wearing black a moment ago? Galvatron shook his head. "I'm with a group-"

"I don't see them." her voice turned thin, almost hissing.

Galvatron stood and assessed her from a trained eye. "Vampire?" he guessed.

A slow smile splayed her lips and her eyes flickered with an ancient darkness. "Most people don't realize their situation until it's far too late." She too stood and even with her dark blue robes close about her body, Galvatron saw the bitter pallor of her skin. He winced when he envisioned millions of victims screaming across her body.

The slender creature opened her arms, her smile warmed, eyes inviting. "Dance with me. Let me take you away from your troubles and sorrows."

Galvatron smirked. "Lady, I've lived too many lives to fall for that. Besides, there is a Light within me and you can't override that."

Their moment halted when both heard THUNK. THUNK. patter, patter, patter, patter. People huffed and protested when someone pushed his way though the crowd.

"Out of the way! Help me! Move! Run! Someone! Someone help me!"

Galvatron shoved the predator aside and aimed for the source of panic. He jumped on the resting bench and hopped one bench to another until he spotted the disturber. A young male squeezed and tripped his way through. Behind him buzzed a squadron of mechanical wasps.

Galvatron's intuition surged adrenaline through his body. He swiftly searched for anything resembling a weapon. Eight o'clock of his position stood a decorative light pole. Galvatron assessed its caliber and the mount on which it sat. He didn't stop to wonder whether or not he had the strength to yank it free of bolts and screws. Nevertheless, it obeyed his determination. The Decepticon leader counted time in the milliseconds. The 'little guy' ran toward him and half the sub-second he passed Galvatron, the first wasp 'bought it' with Galvatron's new found weapon. The next flying nightmare almost escaped. It now decorated the cinema's marquis.

The third and fourth mechanoids abandoned their chase and railed Galvatron. One wasp flew for his face. Galvatron dodged right, twisted round and smashed it from behind.

The last wasp barreled for him. The Decepticon dropped his light pole and grabbed it about the neck in mid-flight. He grunted and cringed when the machine's stinger sank into his flesh. Its legs clamped about his arm and sank hooks into his skin.

Galvatron drew the mechanical wasp to his face as space station security, EMTs, news reporters and Parthon scrambled to and fro.

"Who do you work for, slaghead?" he growled.

No response. He stared into a hundred empty visual components and determined the mechanoids were only drones. But even drones had a central computation core. With a sneer, Galvatron ripped its head off. He searched the crowd, ignoring those who stared and pointed to his bloody arm.

He jumped off the bench and approached the frightened male. The 'boy' paled, his lips trembled. Galvatron nodded in the game room's direction. "Come with me," he said. "Unless you'd rather keep running."

With wild, furtive eyes, the male jumped to his feet and followed Galvatron's blood drops over and around the recovering crowd.

As Galvatron approached the game room, he noticed Captain Parthon pushing his way through a group of old ladies. He darted around a crowd of young mothers like a girl playing hopscotch. " _Galvatron!_ " he called.

The Decepticon hailed him with the mechanism still attached to his arm. Parthon arrived, jerked off his cloak and lightly wrapped Galvatron's injury. "Hurry," he huffed. "We have to leave _now_."

"Why?" Shock started to wear on Galvatron's face as the first symptoms of poison drained his color.

"Who's this?" Parthon asked instead.

"A helpless cause."

Parthon took the mechanoid's head and Galvatron's arm. "C'mon. Let's scamper."

By the time they found the rest of the party, Galvatron's shirt pasted to his body with sweat. Optimus replaced Parthon's support and caught Galvatron when the Decepticon stumbled.

Bookworm jumped to his feet. "What the Torments? Who's that?"

Pissant slimed his way back to Cyclonus' left shoulder. "He's the person we're looking for."

"No way!" Rain protested. "The last thing we need is a stowaway."

Pissant squealed with anger. "He's coming with us and that's THAT!"

Pipsqueak snapped out her communicator. "They're coming! The feckles found us!"

"GET US OUT OF HERE!" Pissant screamed.

Parthon smacked his communicator. "Infraction, get us out of here _now!"_

Pinpoints of light prickled Rusti's skin. She lost the ability to breathe while light shimmered before her eyes. A soft buzzing tickled her ears and seconds later the scene changed.

Standing in a large empty storage bay, she spotted SS INFRACTION scrawled across the left wall. The room flashed white and the next second, Rusti found herself in Rodimus' arms. Bookworm hovered over and pinched her arm with a needle.

She whined, tried to move her hand and failed.

Roddi's voice washed through her disoriented state. " _I have you, Lady-Friend. I have you_."

48


	4. Chapter 4

DSR CHAPTER 14.4

A/N: My goodness, it took me far longer to write this chapter than planned! 'Psyklenox' or 'Psyklenex' are both correct spellings. :D All mistakes are my own; apologies for the one-shot edit. -T.L. Arens

TRANS-SPATIAL INCLINATION

IV

 **RODIMUS**

Rodimus caught Rusti when she fainted. Icy needles drilled into his skin and peeled his face. He watched Rusti's body dissolve then reappear when they fizzled into another chamber. As Parthon confirmed everyone transported onto the Infraction, Roddi checked Rusti's pulse. No heartbeat? No? He laid her on the transporter pad when her lips paled toward blue.

"Bookworm!" Roddi shouted, "she's not breathing!"

The Infraction's medic leapt from Galvatron to Rusti's side and scanned her. He swore dirty. "I forgot she was human. Pittstop! Get my aid kit!"

A subtle boom preceded a shudder that affected the whole ship. Parthon, Rain and Plucky leapt off the transporter and out the door. The ship's alarms cried through the corridor until a hollow masculine voice echoed in every room:

" _Attention,_ _Infraction_ _, captain and crew: space station security has identified a stowaway on board your vessel. Please stand by for security procedure. I repeat: a stowaway has been detected. Please stand by for a security check."_

Pipsqueak grabbed their mystery guest by the collar and nailed Magnus with wide eyes. "Move!" she ordered, "NOW." she yanked the young man out the transporter room while Bookworm slid a thick needle into Rusti's left hand.

"Come on, lady," Bookworm pleaded. He twisted round and pointed at Optimus "What are you doing?! Get him to medbay!"

Optimus hesitated until Roddi nodded toward the exit.

"Go. I got her," he promised. Optimus silently nodded but Roddi knew the senior Prime held his breath with fear. Nevertheless, Optimus secured Galvatron in his arms and took him to medical.

Bookworm slapped Rusti, jolting Roddi. He almost said something when Rusti inhaled. Her eyes popped open, pupils dilated.

The doctor/chef gave her a second shot in the thigh followed by a third in the side of her neck. He sat back and stowed the needles in his emergency pouch. "Let's go. Hurry."

As they stepped out the chamber someone else beamed in. Rodimus stepped out of the way when Rain and Plucky who transported from the bridge, raced for the control module.

Rodimus shadowed Bookworm through the tight corridor, through the decontamination chamber and into medical.

The ship shuddered again. Rodimus almost lost his footing before he laid Rusti on a padded table five feet from Galvatron. Optimus abandoned the Decepticon's side for his wife. Her skin turned pale with a light sheen of sweat. Rodimus planted a hand on his friend's broad shoulder. "He seems to know what he's doing, Op. She'll be okay."

Optimus dragged air into his lungs and directed his energy someplace else. "Bookworm, is there anything we can do to help Captain Parthon?" he asked.

Bookworm programmed the tables to strap his patients securely. "Not at the moment," he answered. "Don't worry," he added, "We have a good crew. You two just hang tight."

Parthon's voice resounded throughout the ship. "Rough ride ahead, folks," he warned from the speakers, "Hunker down!"

Taking Parthon's warning as hyperbole, Rodimus planted himself in a nearby chair while Optimus sat on the floor. Ten seconds later, Rodimus changed his mind, copied Optimus and braced himself at the doorpost. The doctor sat in another chair and strapped in.

The ship turned dark and vibrated with a deep, subsonic noise that rolled pain in both Prime's heads. Rodimus shuddered and stopped breathing when the vibration intensified, hammering his skull and spine. His teeth chattered and he squeezed his eyes tight.

Then it ended like the flip of a switch. The vibration ceased but Rodimus' nerves continued to buzz. He swore to Bookworm, "Geeze!" "What the hell was that?"

Bookworm examined Galvatron's vitals and prepared a syringe. "We just unzipped space."

"That's special,"Roddi snarled. "How about a warning next time?"

"Take it up with the captain," Bookworm muttered. He turned from Galvatron. "Now why don't the two of you go find something else to do?"

"I am not leaving Rusti," Optimus replied sternly.

"Well, you are in my way. If you want me to take care of her, you need to be out."

Rodimus huffed with a glare. "Come on, Op. Let's go talk with the captain." He watched Prime gently take Rusti's hand and stared into her unresponsive face. "Optimus! She's okay. Let's hit Parthon for answers, okay?" He understood how vulnerable Optimus felt. But neither of them were physicians. "Optimus," he quietly repeated. He proffered a hand toward the senior Prime to exit first then with a last glance at Rusti, he too walked out. _You'd better not die, Lady-Friend,_ he thought. _You'll certainly take him with you._

The bridge buzzed with activity and a shouting match, when the two Primes entered.

"This was only a _stop_ ," Parthon shouted. "Not a rescue mission! You endangered our lives and the lives of the Autobots!"

Pissant sat at helm control. Cyclonus sat impassive nearby navigation as if he were under someone else's control. The snail slimed his way across the black and grey consol. He waved his arms and his voice squeaked with the same intensity as Parthon's. "I told you we are on the same rescue mission no matter where we go! Darzon was not part of the plan but he's no less important!"

Parthon rose from his command chair. " _I_ decide what's important! This is MY ship, I'm in charge and you had NO RIGHT to jeopardize us like that!"

Pissant lowered his voice. "It'll all blow over, Parthon. They'll forget about it in a few weeks."

"NO THEY WON'T! They know who we are, they know the ship, they know our logs and now they know everyone here INCLUDING the Automatron! How do you expect us to clean up this mess? Hu?"

"Eh, I'll just wipe their minds. The universe can always use more vegetables."

Rodimus had to say something: "Wow. That's pretty callous." He descended two steps and stood beside Captain Parthon's chair. "It must be nice not having to worry about wrecking other people's lives. Wish I could be a deity. Meanwhile, what just happened and where are we headed?

Parthon wiped his face with a hand and stared out the main view screen. "We still have a job. We have to go to Mechlatex."

Optimus met Roddi's annoyed expression. "What then?" he asked Parthon.

Rodimus pointed a thumb at Prime. "Yeah. Like he said." he nodded once at Pissant. "You gonna send us back like you promised?"

"I didn't promise anything," Pissant snarled. "You just _assumed_ I did."

Rodimus clenched his fists. "You filthy piece of-"

"Not now," Parthon intervened. "We need to find out as much as we can before reaching the Aeotorus System. And according to the _slug_ , our new shipmate has that info." He glanced from Roddi to Optimus. "You're invited, if you have questions." Optimus closed his eyes and nodded. Rodimus glared at Pissant but agreed with a silent glance at Parthon.

However, according to the mollusk, the Automatron, Darzon, wasn't feeling up to talking at that point. Something like 'he needs food and rest' entered Rodimus' right ear and banged around his head. No one set a time table which meant Optimus would live out the extra time in medlab. As for Rodimus himself, he would find something to do; play games, pick his nose, count the hairs on his chest...

As Roddi darkened the corridor toward his quarters he ran into Ultra Magnus who looked like someone held his dog hostage. The frown on Magnus' face was enough to convince Rodimus one day it would be the only thing left of the Major-general.

"Rodimus," Magnus said in greeting.

"That's right, Mags," Roddi returned lightly. "I'm proud of you for remembering my name." He grinned when Magnus rolled his eyes then dropped the grin when Magnus held up the forgotten wasp head procured by Galvatron.

"This needs to be examined," Magnus stated simply. "And Daniel needs to be fed."

"I am not in the mood for Daniel torture," Rodimus answered coldly.

"I know. That's why I'm offering this while I handle Daniel."

Rodimus received the wasp head like a present. His jaw dropped, his face lit up. "Magnus! I didn't know you cared! I mean, yes, of course you care. It's what you are, right? But taking on Daniel? All by yourself, too? Or is this a peace offering for helping you with Daniel?"

"I don't need help with Daniel," Magnus said deadpan. "But you need something to keep busy."

Rodimus shrugged. "Yeah, okay. It's all good, Mags. Thanks." he tossed the basketball-sized robotic head and caught it. Magnus shook his head and left Rodimus with his new project.

Alone once again and safely in his quarters, Roddi set the creepy insectoid piece on the table. He framed it in the middle of his connected fingers like a film director. "Hm. Yeah, you got looks, kid," he said to it. "But do you got talent?" Dropping his arms, Roddi frowned and decided to take a shower. All the animal smells he accumulated off the space station seeped from his clothing like a dirty air filter. The hot water made him feel better than he anticipated. Tension faded from his neck and shoulders. He soaped up, shampooed and rinsed off and left the bathroom in a mess. Twenty minutes later, he ordered a cup of hot cocoa from the room's small replicator and lounged in the nude for another hour, staring at the head.

"Infraction," he called, "play some upbeat music, would you?"

GENRE.

"Rock. Hard rock."

UNAVAILABLE.

"What? How about something from Sex Pistols?"

UNAVAILABLE.

"Okay. Let's try Epic Verses."

UNAVAILABLE.

Rodimus huffed. "Crap. Do you have anything from Sheltered Carnage?"

NEGATIVE.

"Pandora Complex?"

NEGATIVE.

"Journey? Pink Floyd? _Neil Diamond?_ "

NEGATIVE.

"How can you be this cool shtick of metal and have nothing from-pffp. Know what? Never mind. I'll make my own tunage." Rodimus laid eyes on the insectoid head. "Can you get that?" he said to it. "Not even some sappy crap from Neil Diamond. And you need a name. I'll call you Albert."

Rodimus' eyes panned right and stared into nothing. His thoughts drifted and he sipped the drink. "I really shouldn't talk to another head." He stood, remembered his nudity and scrounged for fresh clothes. "See, Albert, I've been talking to bodiless heads for quite some time and it occurred to me that it's probably not healthy." he paused. "On the other hand, I still talk to Magnus. Don't tell him I said that." He found a pair of underwear, a T-shirt, a pair of jeans and fatigues.

Jeans. It just _has_ to be jeans.

"You know," he continued, "I remember how Rusti lived in jeans. I think I finally get it." With another swig of hot cocoa, Rodimus twirled the chair around, sat in it backward and stared at Albert with a more critical eye. "Albert, Albert on the table top, how much handsome do I got? Don't answer that. I don't want any lip from you. I do, however, have a question or two." Rodimus paused again, shook his head then dropped his forehead onto his arm crossing the chair's back. "No, no. no more rhymes." he lifted his head with a smile-burst. "On the other hand, it might irritate Cyclonus. Write that down, would you?"

More cocoa.

 _I'm switching off the lights_

 _It's much too bright for me in here_

 _The walls begin to closing in_

 _It's all I can do to fight this fear._

 _In the mirror all I see_

 _Reflecting what I used to be_

 _Or to the things I used to say_

 _And now I give it all away."_

Rodimus grunted. "Fiction 8. Not strong enough. Maybe a selection from ZZ Top?" He looked to his right hand before remembering his physical attributes did not include equipment upon call. No buzz saw, no forceps or drill. "Damn," he muttered.

Rodimus spent fifteen minutes canvassing his room for tools. He found three then borrowed two others from Pipsqueak upon request. With a song from Avenged Sevenfold from his lips, Rodimus slowly pried the insectoid head open and examined it piece by piece. He tugged out an optic module, held it at eye-level and sang to it:

 _This means war..._

 _This means war..._

 _No home to call my own_

 _No finding someone new_

 _No one to break the fall_

 _No one to see me through_

 _No name to carry on_

 _No promise for today_

 _No one to hear the call_

 _No tattered flag to raise_

 _Walk the razor's edge_

 _Cut into the madness_

 _Question all you trust_

 _Buy into the fear_

 _I see the man ripping at my soul now_

 _I, I know the man_

 _I know him all too well..._

A smile relieved his dour mood and Rodimus flipped through the card file of his memory and selected a piece from Queensryche.

Three hours later Parthon called Rodimus. The Automatron was up and better and ready to talk.

"Goody," Roddi answered without enthusiasm. "Don't start without me." With a word to Optimus, Rodimus attended the meeting for both of them. He tugged on a pair of leather boots and joined five other concerned shipmates in the AV room. The moment he sat down, Rain leapt over the seat and sat beside him. She did not meet his eyes and somehow, Roddi didn't think she needed to. He felt comfortable around her and lounged as if bored.

Parthon joined them, followed by Dot, Magnus and Plucky. The crescent seating allowed all of them to face their stowaway without trapping him in a circle of strangers. The Automatron squirmed in his seat and averted his eyes against the walls and floor.

At the last minute the doors opened again and Cyclonus stepped in with Pissant perched on his shoulder like a miniature puppeteer. Rodimus watched as the Decepticon lieutenant tugged a chair at the left and sat beside Plucky. Roddi did not like Pissant's smile cast in his direction.

To the right, Parthon set a steamy cup of coffee to his lips while Dot on his right activated a small recording device. The captain offered their guest a reassuring smile. "Now we're not here to interrogate you like a criminal, Darzon. You do not have to answer any questions you think are either too personal or incriminating. All we're looking for is information before we reach Mechlatex. What we want is to hear your story. Nothing more. Are you comfortable with that? And are you sure you'd rather not just sit in the kitchen?"

"No. No kitchen. No tables. No bright lights on hard kitchen tables. I can't-I can't get autopsies out of my head. No forks. No knives."

"I got a question," Rodimus pipped to change the subject, "is 'Darzon' your name or is it something the snail gave you?"

"No, I am Darzon. I come from the Towering Rocks of Zaldath Canyon. But that was on Dawmalli before the Tsunami of Fire forced us out."

Dot's rough voice filled the room. "Dawmalli is close to the Chunyan Rift, Darzon. Were you born on Dawmalli or did you originate from the Rift?"

"I am from Series 409. There were 2,200 of us that molded from Livitune on Dawmalli before the Terrible came with his devils and took everyone away. Series 719 were rerouted and their minds stolen so that the Terrible's minions could wear their bodies."

Rodimus grimaced and frowned. "I don't get anything you're saying. What is this 'Terrible'?"

Pissant scoffed. "Darzon, why don't you describe the Terrible to our ignorant friend here? And leave out nothing."

Rodimus felt sorry for the young male; he exhibited severe symptoms of PTSD. "I don't know of the date and time for you but for us, for us from Dawmalli, it's been two hundred seasons. I mean, since the Terrible destroyed everything. We heard what happened to SL2." Darzon drifted a moment. Tears ran over his cheeks while his hands lay limp in his lap. "Not all cities fell to violence. Some cities simply turned _soulless_. The people died from the inside while their bodies continued to work. But other cities erupted with horrifying violence. The communications networks displayed monsters that looked similar to us but were not us. They were a wide, blocky people with great control over their forms. They flew amid the clouds and drove over the land like transports. They murdered and destroyed in the name of the Terrible. I saw the Terrible. I fell sore afraid because he was so great. His claws crushed whole buildings and his tail brought mountains to their foundations."

Darzon sniffed and wiped his face with a sleeve. His eyes stared into a past unseen except in his own mind. "He changed his form into a giant and he destroyed and destroyed and destroyed until we became a defeated peoples. The devils and their abominable god ripped our moldlings from their cradles. We paid dearly for our ignorance. We considered ourselves the only life in the universe and we refused to listen to the testimonies and whispers of the initiated and abducted. They saw things in the sky and they suffered horrendous experiences and we mocked them. Now it's hundreds of seasons too late. Dawmalli, Tumilitis, SL2 and BDX 3304 are places where the dead wander amid the shadows, searching for everything they've lost. And the moldlings are gone."

Rodimus did not need schematics and a magnifying glass to guess who the 'Terrible' was. His lips trembled, his cheeks burned. Flashes of an ancient memory choked all rational thought from his mind. Hot painful tears stung his eyes as he recalled horrors of his own: of an Autobot called Trion, of another Ultra Magnus, another Optimus. The flashes invoked terrible grief so that Rodimus rushed out the room, leaned back against the doors and aimed for his quarters. But the meltdown caught him and he slammed his back against the right wall.

He tried to breathe and held his head as if it would burst apart. He gasped for air, trying to control himself.

No such luck.

 _Trion scrunched in front of him and gripped the Matrix tightly between his own two hands. The elder stared into it; treasure of the ages, and nodded. "You must think that I fear your little unholy alliance, Rodimus," he said softly. "You probably think the Decepticons will come galloping into Metroplex and save the day. But I have the last say, my incorrigible, juvenile recalcitrant. I am taking over."_

 _Rodimus watched as Trion lifted the Matrix high over his head; an offering in the name of power lust. The traitor brought it down like a priest speeding his knife into a sacrifice. Roddi's laser core stopped cold. Time froze. Trion smashed the Matrix; he smashed Rodimus' heart. The Autobot leader stopped breathing. The universe fell silent._

Roddi remembered the overwhelming sadness thereafter. He died. He died.

Rodimus wept. The wound time once healed reopened and bled freely. It was real. It happened and the torment ripped his spark.

Get a grip! Think on something else! "No," he said to himself. "I'm okay. I'm okay. I'm here and alive. I'm alive."

The light through his eyelids darkened. Rodimus lifted his eyes and faced a somber lady with crazy dark hair and eyes wearing too much makeup. Rain scrunched before him without getting into his space. "That's what I told myself every night after I was rescued." she said quietly. " _Get over it, Rain. Quit being such a crybaby, Rain. Grow a backbone and move on.'_ That was my mantra for five years."

She nodded toward the A/V room with a cold frown. "The snail suppressed most of my memories. But like he said, the soul doesn't forget. You have to relearn how to be a person again. You have to learn how to be fair to yourself."

Roddi nodded then shook his head. "'Fair' isn't in my vocab, Babe. I'm an Autobot leader. Everything I do and say, every moment of my existence is for the Autobots."

She blinked, pursed her lips and glanced to the right. "It's your job, your identity. I get it. But you're still a person, Rodimus. A plambus might be forced to plow a farmer's field, but he's still a plambus. Just because you're a big shot doesn't mean you don't have needs yourself."

"Oh, Primus," Rodimus moaned.

"What?"

"You just... oh, you make my head hurt. You're telling me the _exact_ same thing I've told Optimus." Roddi huffed, sniffed then huffed again. "I guess that means I have issues and it's only a matter of time before Optimus starts trying to cheer me up."

Rain drew back a bit, her face reflected bewilderment. "What does that mean?"

Rodimus pushed off the floor and stood straight. "Well, it'll start out with a pep talk. And then he'll try to cheer me up with too much happiness and funny. And then, when all else fails, he'll pull a fast one."

"What's a 'fast one'?"

"A prank."

Rain walked with Roddi toward his quarters. Her arms folded, her cornflower blue lips spread. "You mean Mr. I'm-So-In-Love-I-Forgot-The-Universe-Exists is capable of pranking?"

Rodimus stretched his arms over his head and laced fingers behind his head. "You could say that, yeah."

Roddi exiled himself to his quarters for hours. He rejected the call for dinner and engrossed himself over the broken wasp head.

As he picked at the tiniest of pieces, Optimus made the foretold 'welfare call'. "I'm good, Op," Roddi all but sang. "Thanks. No, not talking to myself; I got Albert for that. Who's Albert? He's, ah, he's a politician, Optimus. Yeah, that's right. He said he's got goods on you, too. Yup. It's all good, Op. I'm good. Kay, bye!"

At last Rodimus found the goods locked away in the insectoid's brainpan. He carefully removed a thin strip of silver tape and held it to the light. When the chamber light failed to give him a better visual, Rodimus took it to the bathroom and scrutinized the chain of scratch marks.

"Do not open until Doomsday," he said aloud. "Oh, wait, T-D-S-C-9." Rodimus lowered his arms, thought through the lettering and smiled under a half-ass attempt. "Love, Shrapnel."

The code revealed itself to him in 4. 3. 2. 1.

"Oh, crap," Roddi whispered. "These were Shrapnel's drones. Aaand they fought Galvatron." (Wait for it:) "Oh, crap."

He stood quite still, blinked once then twice and twirled back to Albert. "So what else you got to tell me, you bastardized Decepticon wannabe? Hm?"

Meanwhile he sang song after song, never finishing one before he started the next. He vaguely and momentarily wondered how the others spent their time.

His door buzzed and he ignored it. Albert was the only thing he cared about because bunk-buddies, _good_ bunk-buddies who gossiped, were hard to find.

 _BZZZZZT._

 _BZZZZZT_

 _BZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZTT!_

Roddi slammed a pair of tweezers on the desk. "Dammit!" he yanked open the door and Optimus stood leaning against the door frame.

"Just thought I'd stop by and see how you were doing."

"That's disgustingly sweet of you. Now go away."

Optimus slowly blinked. "Rodimus... _Roddi_. I'm worried about you."

The Autobot's Second ran fingers through his red hair. "Op, you're great with the kids. You really are. And I appreciate that you think you can iron out my wrinkles with a few sagacious words. But my music therapy is working fine."

"Everyone can hear you, Rodimus."

"And an audience is even better!"

Optimus turned serious (well, more than usual). "Rodimus, caterwauling is not your strong suit."

Rodimus sneered. "That so? I'll change the genre." He closed the door and locked it.

Seven hours passed by the time Rodimus laid the mech-head spread over his table like a multitude of puzzle pieces. He counted ninety-three songs hacked and ruined by his not-so-subtle voice.

"I need a scanner," he said at last. Standing straight, one hand tucked under an arm and a finger over his lips, Rodimus' head mulled. Can't use Bookworm's gadgets. Magnus would likely find something else for Rodimus to do the minute they ran into one another.

Ah! But _Cloudstreaker_ would likely have what he needed!

"Yup," he said aloud. He struck up the first chords from Natalie Cole's _Everlasting Love_ then interrupted it by the second verse with a song from Johnny Cash.

Someone buzzed his door. "Go away!" he shouted. "Evil genius at work!" Roddi spotted an e-pad on his dresser and swept it up.

The door buzzed again.

"Not interested!" Roddi sang. "Go away!" he turned his back on the door and loudly howled a song from Ratner Bensenson and the Lights. He e-tapped Cloudstreaker who answered that she indeed had what he needed but she and Pipsqueak had their hands full with delicate materials and she could not leave.

The door buzzed yet again and Roddi broke into an annoying Disney song. He e-tapped Cloudy he'd drop by and nab-

BZZZZZZTT!

With a swear word on his lips, Roddi threw open the door. "WHAT?!"

 **ULTRA MAGNUS**

Adrenaline pumped through Magnus' veins like the sweetest hot sauce in the galaxy. Leaving the wrestling ring was like bidding farewell to a favorite chair. Magnus did not restrain his fight. He tied no strings around his power and he delivered every punch like a divine stamp of approval.

He did not care how Rodimus and the others stared at his clothing-or near lack thereof. Like a comic book hero, their expressions bounced off his chest; weak as paper bullets. The wresting tournaments lent him a therapy unlike anything in decades.

Oh, certainly there have been many campaigns and battles that have allowed Magnus to release his inner powerhouse. But even the battlefield had its rules; when the fight was called, it was done. But the ring (at least at Cygnus) liberated his passion for fighting. No rules, no time limits, no mercy.

Without a doubt, Magnus' opponents felt the same, even if someone else had to drag them off the mat.

But oh, was he sore! Magnus inwardly laughed at each bruise he counted.

Now he shoved his victory onto the shelf of experience and moved forward. He was not expecting events to heat up before they returned to the Infraction, however. Everyone turned when they saw Galvatron appear from a bench eight stores away. A squad of mechanical wasps headed in their direction while a young male humanoid pushed his way through the crowd of shoppers. Everything moved so fast but what caught Magnus' breath was how Galvatron fought them. No hesitation. No spared second for thought. One by one each menace met an untimely end, smashed to pieces as if Galvatron were the only gladiator in an arena. He caught the last wasp and did not so much as groan when it sank its legs into his arm.

Meanwhile someone shouted for them to leave. Magnus spotted several other figures following the wasps, people Galvatron did not see as he and Parthon raced for the group.

Four single-faced Quintessons flew in their direction, tentacles flaying behind them. One drew a photon rifle as the world around them lit with shimmering stars. Rodimus caught Rusti when she fainted. Galvatron, the stranger with him and Parthon leapt into their midst. Optimus caught Galvatron and Magnus caught an oddly shaped object before the world flashed with freezing pinpricks.

An abrupt shift in scene, temperature and atmosphere disoriented Magnus. He staggered against a nearby bulkhead and winced at the cold hard surface. In front of him, Rodimus shouted for Bookworm. Optimus grunted under Galvatron's weight and adjusted his center accordingly.

The floor under them trembled and Magnus realized they returned to the Infraction by means of a transporter. As Magnus' head cleared, Rain and Parthon jumped from the pad and raced out the room.

The ship shook harder while voices shouted over the intercom.

Pipsqueak grabbed their alien stowaway and yelled at Magnus. The ship shuddered a third time as Bookworm rushed to save Rusti's life. Glancing first at Cloudstreaker, then the object in his hands, the Major-general followed Pipsqueak out the room and to the left. They raced down the poorly-lit corridor, winding one direction then another. Their new shipmate spoke incoherently as Pipsqueak tugged him along. He stumbled and Magnus thought the Infraction's engineer was going to stop and haul him over her shoulder. Instead she slapped a door to their left and led them into the engine room.

Leaving their guest with Magnus and Cloudy, Pipsqueak jumped high, caught herself on a short ladder and scrambled onto the engine's upper level. She punched two large yellow knobs into the side of a cylindrical generator. A loud drone thrummed through Magnus' bones and he winced.

Pipsqueak grasped a lever high over her head and almost as big as she. "Hang on!" she shouted above the roar.

The Infraction bucked and jittered before a powerful vibration resonated through the interior. A shock of cold slammed into Magnus; Cloudstreaker collapsed. Their stowaway screamed, clasped the sides of his head and dropped to his knees. As sudden as it hit, the effects vanished and left the three of them shivering.

Magnus gathered every ounce of strength to locate Pipsqueak where she lay on the lip of the upper story. "Pipsqueak?" his thin voice barely penetrated the air. He breathed twice then called her again.

"Yadda-nad," she replied weakly. She tugged her wilted form against the engine and rested a moment before hitting a button above her head. "Sorry 'bout that, Captain," she said with an equally exhausted voice.

Parthon gasped for breath over the intercom. "It's good, Pip. You did good. So glad we don't use that all the time!"

"Tu," Pipsqueak smacked the button again. She and Magnus stared while Cloudstreaker stirred.

"What the smelt was that?" Cloudy demanded.

Pipsqueak smiled as she recovered. "Last resort escape plan. I invented and installed it myself."

"Escape plan?" Magnus echoed.

"Tu. It does three things: First, it jumps the ship twenty light years. Second, it vaporizes our pathway so no one can track our neutrion trail. And third: my personal fave, it blows all scanning equipment within a decaleap."

"What's a decaleap?" Cloudy instantly asked.

"Uh, well, if you were to take the Infraction and multiply her by 209,907.84 thekams, you'd have a decaleap.

Magnus' turn: "what's a thekam?"

"The Infraction is 4.17 thekams."

Cloudy and Magnus both calculated the sizes in their heads. "Oh," they chimed.

"The problem," Pipsqueak continued, "is that it drains bio-electricity from organics. Can't seem to find a way around it."

"No kidding," Magnus sneered. He stood on shaky legs and gracelessly hauled the young man to his feet. He helped Cloudstreaker up, picked up Galvatron's consolation prize then gave Pipsqueak his infamous dour expression. "What now?"

Pipsqueak jumped from her perch and smiled nervously.

They joined Parthon on the bridge and behind them Cyclonus entered with Pissant on his shoulder. The snail smiled at their new member and waved.

" _Zaschitsa, Darzon! Meit do aline keight demelos._ "

" _P-pazazine elg diame, ven bosteir_." the young man stammered in turn.

Cyclonus set the snail on the navigation control consol and sat in the next chair. Pissant counted the group. "Where are the rest of us?"

"Never mind that!" Parthon snapped. "What the _cangot_ is this about?! YOU'RE responsible for his being here, Pissant! Out with it!"

Unfazed by Parthon's temper, Pissant's voice came calm and condescending. "First, Dear Captain, shall we not extend some courtesy and assign him some quarters? And you, Magnus, I've had quite enough a view of your chest. Please go away and clean up."

All eyes zeroed on Magnus who held his hands apart, the wasp head dangled from his left. "What?" he asked innocently. "My outfit does not disqualify me from decency. And it's far from important." Magnus found it difficult to suppress a smile when Cloudstreaker silently laughed. Neverthless, all eyes froze on him, a silent reprimand. "Fine," he growled. "Pipsqueak and I will escort- what's your name?"

"It's Darzon," Pissant answered in the Automatron's stead. "And thank you, Magnus. You made a wise decision." He ignored the obscene gesture Magnus flipped him as he exited the bridge.

Pipsqueak, Magnus and Darzon took the nearest lift from the bridge. Pipsqueak picked Darzon's room around the corner from Bookworm's. She and Magnus waved him good night when he plopped on his bed and sighed straight into sleep. They took five steps before Pipsqueak spoke again.

"I was wondering who was going to take care of your eighth party today. We've been gone several hours at the space station."

"Eighth party?" Magnus looked perplexed.

"That Daniel fellow we have locked up."

"Oh, shit!" his glance shot toward the back end of the ship and thereby the storage bay. "Optimus Prime was taking care of him."

"Tu. But he took the bald hero to Bookworm's medical bay."

A soft laugh escaped Magnus' diaphragm. He cleared his throat, catching himself. "Right. I, I guess I'll have to look in on him." Magnus held the wasp's head up so that it swung from artificial connective tissue. "I suppose I should find a place to put this, first." Another thought came to him: "Pipsqueak, I'd like to know more about that... that device you made. I'd love to have something like that for the Mozart. Though, I don't know what you'd charge for it."

Tilting her head, Pip's face lit with piqued interest. "Larger ship. Greater challenge. Let me think on it, Mister Magnus."

Magnus found his own way back to the corridor where his quarters were stationed. He spotted Rodimus approaching from the opposite end and grinned. "Rodimus!"

"That's right, Mags," Roddi frowned. "I'm proud of you for remembering my name."

Magnus rolled his eyes and dangled the wasp head. "This needs to be examined." He suddenly decided to give Rodimus a choice, rather than an order. "But Daniel also needs to be fed."

"I am not in the mood for Daniel torture," Rodimus scoffed.

"I know. That's why I'm offering this while I handle Daniel."

Rodimus took the wasp head like a present. His jaw dropped, his face lit up. "Magnus! I didn't know you cared! I mean, yes, of course you care. It's what you are, right? But taking on Daniel? All by yourself, too? Or is this a peace offering for _helping_ you with Daniel?"

"I don't need help with Daniel," Magnus returned confidently. To be honest with himself, he'd just as soon as strangle that asshole with a shoestring. Magnus forced on a subtle smile. "But you need something to keep busy."

Rodimus bounced his own head from shoulder to shoulder. "Yeah, okay. It's all good, Mags. Thanks." he tossed the robotic head into the air and caught it.

Magnus shook his head and wondered if Rodimus would ever develop a more serious personality.

"Well, now! What divine authority has seen fit to bless me with a visitor?" Daniel Witwicky's voice barely penetrated the cargo bay's deep silence. Magnus activated the lights and scanned the large cargo hall wall to wall. Huge crates and wooden boxes lined the sides, piled atop one another or squatted under large wrinkled tarps. A chainlink cage sat in the middle. Apparently the contraption was designed for animals. A small dark enclosure contained a bed within the cage. A slot at the front gate yawned tall enough to allow dishes in and out. Magnus scoffed with approval.

"I like your new layout, Daniel. It's more fitting than an energo-prison."

"Oh, I'm sure you find my predicament most amusing, Magnus. Witwicky emerged from the shadow. His dark eyes reflected weariness. He scowled. "Magnus, did Prime or Prime decide they were suddenly too good to feed their pet? Did they forget about Spot?"

"You're far from pet material, Daniel," Magnus opened a small storage cupboard and made meal choices.

Witwicky grunted and folded his arms. "I don't suppose there's a pad I can have; something with a game on it?"

"There's real books here."

"Oooh," Daniel mocked. "Is there a _Danco S'Vore or Testament of Graces_ there, too?"

Magnus actually checked the collection in a paper box beside the cupboard. Not surprising, none of them were written in English. "No."

"Just as well," Witwicky snarled. "I'd only use them to wipe my ass."

With a stone-solid expression, Magnus brought a plate piled with sandwiches and slid it under the door. He followed that with a canteen of water. "That's not surprising, Daniel, considering you wipe your ass on everything else."

Witwicky sneered. "You keep treating me like some sort of criminal."

"You _are_ a criminal," Magnus returned sharply. "We just haven't taken time to deal with you."

"Oh." Witwicky picked up the plate and examined the food. "I'm pretty sure the Autobots have better things to do than harass me."

"Mm. By the way, I know what you did on my ship. And yes, I'm talking about Chalk-Talk. _I_ would have you executed, Daniel, had I any say about it."

Witwicky remorselessly stuffed his mouth and nodded. "Won't happen ," he said around the bread. "You'll all just leave me to rot someplace else."

"There are things worse than death, Daniel."

Witwicky smirked and ate another bite. "I'm mot going to die, Magnus. So you can relax. I bet-" he licked a finger. "I bet I'll outlive you. In fact, I'll outlive all of you."

Magnus scorned him. "And you know this how?"

"You kidding me? You're all fools. You're out playing the universe like a pinball machine and you expect to come out the winner. You won't win. Remember Cratis? You and Rodimus had your asses handed to you. And Grimlock: permanently out of commission. In fact, I find it sad that you guys won't pull his plug and let him die with a measure of dignity."

Magnus crossed his powerful arms. "You're a fatalist, Daniel."

"I'm a _realist_ , Magnus. The rest of you have become the backside of all the _Lost In Space_ jokes I've ever heard. But hey, at least I get a front row seat watching you mechanical morons swirl down the drain to your demise."

"Hm." Magnus fell quiet then added, "you know, Daniel, you haven't lived long enough to say things like that. I've _lived_ hopeless. This is not hopeless."

Daniel snorted again. "What do you call it, then? 'Long Road Home With Several Detours'? Did it occur to you that we may never get back to the Autobots? How many trans-dimensional leaps into Never-Never Land do you think we have to make?"

"Whatever it takes."

Witwicky cleaned his teeth with his tongue. "And what if there's nothing left by the time we get there?"

Magnus' lips turned upward but the smile was not a cheerful one. "There's always the hunt for justice or revenge."

Magnus left Daniel, glad to get away from Witwicky's brooding mood. Magnus vowed he'd _allow_ Optimus the privilege of handling Witwicky next time.

As he entered his quarters, Magnus heard the squall of a dying yak.

Wait.

Was that... was that Shen Zu Pang's 'Entwined'? It sounded like-

"Rodimus," Magnus surmised. And the horrible singing leeched through the ship's vents.

"RODIMUS!" Magnus bellowed, "SHUT UP!"

Immediate silence did not last longer than twenty seconds before Rodimus struck up tones from a rock opera.

Knowing nothing said or shouted affected Rodimus' immature mood, Magnus abandoned his room for a quieter place.

He made for the kitchen when Rain caught him.

"Hey! 'Conversation With an Alien' is about to start. We're meeting in the AV room if you wanna listen in."

Magnus unscrambled her message. "Yes, I do. This is not the first time we've encountered an Automatron."

"Really? Come on, then. Not all Automatrons are made of the same metal."

Magnus trailed behind Rain and entered the AV theater with Dot and Parthon. The captain strolled in with comfortable clothes, slippers and a cup of hot coffee. Magnus picked a seat and noticed with amusement how Rain annoyed Rodimus like a pesky little sister.

Once everyone settled, Darzon sadly explained himself and his history as prompted by Rodimus then Pissant. The humanoid-mech spent as much time recollecting himself as he recounted his grizzly tale of death and destruction. Magnus held no doubts Skorponok kept himself busy.

But as Darzon surrendered more details, Rodimus abruptly fled the room. Rain tracked after him a moment later, leaving the others confused and a little concerned.

Pissant, however, insisted they continue. "What we need to know, Darzon, is whether or not the survivors are scattered across the stars, or if they are banded together. Mind you, I understand it's easier to pick off a group than hunt down individuals. But we-as directed by the good captain here-are trying to lend assistance. Clearly you were the only Automatron on the SS Cygnus. Where are the others?"

The young male gripped his dark hair and bowed over. "I don't know," he murmured. "There's Ryumee on Mechlatex. But she's the only contact I've had for five cycles. I've just been running. I won't go to Mechlatex and I won't go to Plapaudonus."

"Plapaudonus?" Dot echoed. "That's just a desert planet. Do you think there are others there, possibly?"

"No." Darzon folded over, his words barely audible. "No. Plapaudonus is empty. It's nothing. There's nothing. People think it's safe. Nothing is safe."

"I have a question," Magnus stated. "What exactly do you plan to do once or if you find all the Automatron survivors? I don't know how far and wide Psyklenox's territory runs, but now that he's teamed with Skorponok, chances are, his regime will expand exponentially. Is there anyone who is trying to put a stop to it?"

The Infraction's crew glanced at one another until Pissant spoke again.

"No."

"What?"

"No."

Magnus creased his brows in confusion. "I don't-"

pissant's voice strengthened. "There is no army, Ultra Magnus. No group, no people strong or powerful enough to fight Psyklenox and Skorponok."

Magnus passed his bewildered expression from the snail to Parthon, Plucky and Dot. "How many planets are involved? How many systems? There is not one government, not one people willing to stand against this insanity?"

Dot's sad voice filled the theater. "There is _resistance_ , Ultra Magnus. But that's not the same thing as an opposing army. The only reason people can still move from planet to planet or territory to territory is because Psyklenox's attention is on his growing army, not in controlling everyday life. It won't be long before he starts oppressing the masses, however. As you saw on the Cygnus, there are cameras and soldiers and 'investigators' everywhere. People are distracted and catered to so they have nothing to complain about. News is carefully controlled but there are a few of us who manage to get the truth out. It's just that we don't know how many are listening. When you are having fun, the last thing you want to hear is how whole sections of cities or planets are destroyed by war, famine or disease. And once our voices are cut off, then you know there is no more freedom."

Magnus turned back to Darzon and realized the Automatrons were practically an extinct people.

After several insignificant questions, the session ended and Magnus returned to his quarters in a worse mood than before. He dropped onto his bed, despising their situation. They needed to get back to Earth and end the Quintesson Occupation once and for all. Sadly enough, this section of space suffered a similar dilemma wrought by an ancient warlord and his new minions. Magnus wanted to help these people and their children who were losing their homes, their freedom and their lives. But Earth was just as important, if not more so.

" _You say that I'm the only one..."_

Magnus eyed the air vent. He did NOT hear that. No dead donkeys in the air vents, please.

" _...But will my heart be broken_

 _When the night meets the morning sun..."_

"RODIMUS, THAT HAD **BETTER NOT** BE YOU!"

" _...And I won't ask again_

 _Will you still love me tomorrow?_ "

Magnus did not know the song; he did not care. He recognized the next song from Fleetwood Mac and roared his displeasure.

Silence.

Twelve seconds.

Silence.

Twenty-two seconds.

" _Ohhhh... tie a yellow ribbon 'round the old oak tree..."_

The last filament busted and Magnus decided it time to act.

Four and a half hours into his plotting, Magnus' stomach called. He forgot his disadvantageous situation and checked his chronometer.

 _What chronometer?! Human, remember?_

Dammit!

He twisted round right then left, searching for a clock.

No clock amid the room's inventory.

Damn.

Pushing from the table, Magnus tugged on his boots and the vest from the Mozart.

And thinking of his beloved ship, the Major-general intended to pour through all sketches and ideas for the Sagittarian Mozart. The depressing conversation with Daniel Witwicky made Magnus realize their fleet consisted of _refugee_ ships, not war vessels. And while his ship, the Trench Driver, the Sabor's Claw and the Armored Crest had good weapons and great scanners, they fell far short of Decepticon battle cruisers. The  Restitution, for example, had the bulkhead of fifteen feet of solid metal. Megatron once boasted how the Restitution sliced clean through an Autobot flagship.

Although Magnus was not looking to reformat the Mozart into a space-faring battering ram, _he_ needed a serious upgrade.

"And I'm going to give him one," Magnus said aloud.

Someone buzzed Magnus' door. "Yeah," he replied.

The door slid open and Dot peered in. "Ultra Magnus? Something's happened to Cyclonus. You might want to come with me."

They had two fully functional and conscious Primes on board. Magus forgave Optimus, whose mind and heart were preoccupied. "What of Rodimus? Did you talk with him?"

"He won't answer either door or com."

"Of course not," the city commander growled.

He followed the old lady two rooms down where Bookworm and Captain Parthon hovered over the Decepticon's fallen form.

Cyclonus lay face-down near his bed. Pissant plastered himself to the wall nearby the doorpost. He wrung his hands and watched as Bookworm scanned the fallen Decepticon with two different devices. Captain Parthon and Ultra Magnus stood nearby, waiting Bookworm's prognosis.

Pittstop joined them a moment later carrying a flat metal board. He sent Pissant a look of disgust. "Must you has to hangs on the wall likes that?"

"Yes," the mollusk answered instantly. "And if it annoys or grosses you out, I'll be sure to do it more often." He added a smug smile and folded his arms.

Pittstop sneered and stepped between Magnus and Parthon, stretcher at the ready. "I doesn't knows where you keeps yer stuff, Books. This was alls I could find."

"Good 'nuff. Help me turn the patient over."

"Is he going to be all right?" Magnus asked.

Ignoring Magnus' question, Bookworm and Pittstop unfolded the metal board and pinched its four corners. The device changed into a long gurney complete with an antigravity drive and a force field that held Cyclonus in place during transport. Bookworm stashed his scanners into pockets and turned the gurney toward the door.

"Pittstop, who's manning the bridge?" Parthon followed.

"Rain's gots the bridge, Cap'n," the navigator answered.

Bookworm cut Pittstop off to answer Ultra Magnus. "I don't know yet. I don't think it's anything to do with the transporter. He was fine until now. Unless, of course, Pissant knows something we don't."

Parthon and Ultra Magnus turned to the doorway and found Pissant conveniently missing. Parthon swore in one language and Magnus in English. The captain snorted. "Here, Books, let me help out with that." He took up the doctor's place at the gurney.

Magnus clenched a fist. "I don't suppose you'd mind if I have a _short_ conversation with the slug, would you, Captain?"

"Wait at his door, Magnus. It's safer if I'm there, too."

Magnus waited as instructed, hovering around the snail's quarters like a sniper with a rash. Parthon joined him ten minutes later and buzzed the door.

The captain smirked mirthlessly. "I don't really expect him to answer the door, Magnus," he said. "It's just that I'm too polite."

"I could bust it down if you'd like," Magnus offered quietly.

Parthon huffed and grinned. "Not necessary. I am, after all, both ship's captain and the owner." He produced a control device the shape of a boomerang and pressed a button.

They stepped through the door together and scanned Pissant's quarters. The snail, engaged in a holographic game, ignored them until he lost the session. With a foul word on his little lips, the mollusk slimed his way to the edge of the room's table and gave his peers a bored, condescending expression.

"So nice of you two to knock," he groused quietly.

"What happened to Cyclonus?" Magnus asked without preamble.

Pissant scoffed. "How the Torments am I supposed to know? Do I look like Bookworm's medical journal?"

Parthon's expression hardened. "Pissant, you're not just some sapient snail. So quit being an ass and answer the question."

"In case you have not noticed, Captain P. _Ass_ is part of my name in reverse. But don't think about it too long. I don't want you to go comatose with brain damage. As for Cyclonus, I can't be certain. I may be an awesome little _spit wad_ but I am not omniscient. Tell you what: that Human female, Rusti, seems to know all about me. You might ask her. After all, she's not entirely what she seems to be. Sorta like you, Ultra Magnus. And I'd develop that further, but Decepticons are not an exciting topic."

Magnus' patience waned. "Then how can we find out for certain?"

Pissant smiled. "I suppose we'll just have to wait. You hate that, don't you?"

Magnus returned to his quarters. The two days of relative quiet in their lives unraveled a moment at a time. He knew without question trouble waited for them around the corner. He sat at the edge of his bed and rubbed his forehead.

A deep, unscratchable itch nagged Magnus; an itch to get back to their fleet and prepare for war. More than ever, he determined to make changes to his ship. Magnus wanted the Sagittarian Mozart to lead the refugees against the Quintessons. Cyclonus' illness gave the Major-general a shortened sense of time. Whatever they needed to do, needed to be done as immediately as possible.

An off-key screech like aluminum scraped over rocks, rollicked out the air vent.

Rodimus. Singing. Horribly.

And on purpose.

Again.

Magnus' nostrils flared. Enough was enough. He had enough. He gathered all the notes, plans and sketches for the Mozart and worked on those finishing touches to the plan to ruin Rodimus' day. He was going to say something with such finality that Rodimus will _never_ forget or forgive.

After all, Ultra Magnus did not need forgiveness, just a set of audio receptors and a meta processor with a decent connective system.

First, however, there were a few items needed.

Magnus left his quarters in search of Pipsqueak. He departed down the corridor, took a left and found a door marked with a poster.

Magnus would have passed it by were it not that his eye caught the word FART. He stopped, looked puzzled and reversed course.

 **GALVATRON'S FART CHART**

Magnus planted fists on his hips. "You have got to be kidding me."

 **SINGLE STANDARD FART...4 PTS**

 **BELCH + FART... 20 PTS**

 **QUIET BUT DEADLY ... 25 PTS**

" **IT'S THE DOG'S FAULT"... 20 PTS. 40 IF EVERYONE BELIEVES YOU.**

 **THREE FARTS+...30 PTS. ADD 25 IF THEY'RE LONG-LASTING.**

 **SNEEZE + ACCIDENTAL FART... 20. 35, IF STINKY.**

 **TWO (2) BELCHES + A FART ..30. ADD 50 IF IT'S A RACE TO THE BATHROOM.**

 **FART DURING SLEEP... 30 PTS. 70 IF SOMEONE ELSE IS IN THE ROOM/BED**

 **PUBLIC FART... 40 PTS. 100 IF SOMEONE DIES.**

 **BATHROOM STINK BOMBS... 100 PTS. 250 IF THE PAINT PEELS.**

Magnus frowned. "And I thought Rodimus was immature." The Autobot commander scoffed at each door he passed. Galvatron's brand of mischief was harmless, if not so subtle. At least he did not produce the fireworks of pranks that Rodimus was infamous for. Optimus' was always last-minute, undetectable. Magnus considered himself a non-prankster. It was a childish waste of time.

Magnus stepped through the door into engineering where Cloudstreaker and Pipsqueak welded wiring to a five-foot cylindrical object in the middle of the cavernous room. Cloudstreaker cheerfully greeted Magnus.

He ignored her in favor of the Infraction's chief mechanic. "I need a favor," he announced.

Pipsqueak lifted a dark visor from her eyes and her cheeks bubbled with a smile. "So you say!" she handed a Y-shaped tool to Cloudy and joined Magnus. "Hi!"

"Erm, it's more like a shopping list." The Major-general handed her a small e-pad. She walked away, reading his list.

Cloudstreaker's voice bounced off the engine room's walls and floor as she continued to work on the mechanism's complex frame. "Pipsqueak is teaching me technology I might be able to apply in other areas in the fleet."

Magnus nodded, half listening. "Hmhm."

Awkward silence.

Cloudy tried again. "I heard there was a commotion over Cyclonus."

Magnus answered without meeting her gaze. "They don't know what's wrong. Not really, anyway."

Pipsqueak returned with a large box in her arms. She handed it to Magnus and took a rope from between her teeth. "The white stuff you can get from one of Pittstop's pillows. And careful, it'll get everywhere."

"Got it."

Cloudstreaker wiped excess lubricant from the steel frame wonderd what preoccupied Magnus' attention. "What are you working on, Ultra Magnus?"

The Major-general took a swift inventory of his goods. "A project I should have done years ago." he departed without either a thank you or a good-bye. He was a mech on a mission long since overdue.

Rodimus now sang a stupid, really nasty ditty. Magnus resisted the urge to bang Roddi's door and shove a pair of dirty underwear into Prime's mouth.

 _Stick to the task_ , he told himself.

At the last, he produced a remote control from his pocket and startled when he realized Galvatron stood beside him.

"Whatchya doing?"

Magnus almost dropped the remote and shushed the Decepticon. He dragged Galvatron down the end of the hall and round the corner.

What the hell 'r you doing here?!" he harshly whispered.

Galvatron shrugged. "I'm on a new campaign."

"Yeah. I saw your posters."

The Decepticon smiled as pleased as the shiny spot at the top of his head. "Education is important."

"A _fart chart_ , Galvatron? That's hardly educational material and a little juvenile."

Galvatron puckered his lips in thought. "Everyone needs a hobby. And speaking of which, what were you building in the middle of the hallway?"

Magnus stared at Galvatron's solid red eyes. "Revenge," he said a moment later.

Galvatron smiled, a dubious look on his face. "And I'm juvenile _why_?"

Magnus shook his head. "Later! I'm about to have a long-overdue, perfect moment."

Galvatron looked nonplused but Magnus ignored him. The Autobot commander peered round the corner and pressed a button on his remote.

Rodimus' door buzzed.

 **GALVATRON**

Galvatron sat beside an old friend. A cheerful fire lit the comfortable living room just enough to chase out the shadows from their faces. A cup of brew warmed Galvatron's hands while the world outside turned silent under the growing blanket of snow.

Galvatron's sweet wife slept soundly in the next room while he and his friend, Emanuel, talked long into the night. They spoke of sports and science discoveries. They laughed over past events and considered ideas for the future. Galvatron listened more than talked. He concluded long ago that nights like these were the best times of his life.

"Have you heard the Music, Galvatron?" his friend asked.

"Now and again," the Decepticon answered quietly. "It's a sweet, short melody, something I love to listen to over and over."

"And you will," Emanuel promised. "Your life is far from over. You are already aware of this."

"Yes." And not for the first time that evening, Galvatron smiled and sipped the rich brew in his cup.

"You will be a leader again, Galvatron. You have been good and faithful in those few things. I will bring you a people to care for and ministrate over."

Galvatron mulled over the promise. "What if I am no longer interested in leadership? Have I not brought the curse of solitude upon myself?"

"It is not what you do that causes me to decide these things, Galvatron," Emanuel replied as he watched the fire. "It's what pleases me to do."

"Then I will do the very best I can," he promised.

Emanuel smiled. "I know you will."

Galvatron regained consciousness. The dream left him with peaceful hope and confident expectation. Once he realized he lay in unfamiliar surroundings, he marched his eyes to the right. Galvatron smiled, discovering Optimus sitting not far away, slumped over the edge of another bed.

The Decepticon's smile faded to worry when he noticed who lay on the bed. "Prime," he croaked. "Ahem, Optimus."

His friend lifted a weary head. His light smile did not go beyond his lips. "Glad to see you conscious again."

"How long have I been out of commission, and what happened to Rusti?"

Her body, um the transporter was not set for human physiology. Her... some of her organs shut down and Bookworm is keeping her under while they repair."

"I'm sorry. Will she be alright?" Optimus nodded and Galvatron laid back on his pillow.

"How is your arm?"

"What of my arm? I have an arm?" Galvatron lifted his injured arm and grinned. "Oh, hello, arm! I can't feel you, right now. What am I on and what did that?"

"You were playing hero in the mall, Galvatron." Optimus read the Decepticon's confused expression. "The wasp drone?"

"Oh! Seems like I did not win."

"You won but with a price; you were poisoned."

His memories slowly unfolded and Galvatron knitted his brows. "There was a little fellow-"

"He's safe with us."

Galvatron smirked. "Safe with us? Smacks of irony. What's safe about us?"

"Considering what we've been through, absolutely nothing."

"I'll personally take responsibility for that. I have nothing else to do today." The former Decepticon leader rested a moment then drew a breath. "You know what I need right now, Optimus?"

"To get laid?"

The response was so swift and so _un-Optimus_ it took Galvatron by surprise. He stared at the humanized Autobot leader and laughed. Optimus joined him with a quiet chuckle.

Galvatron tested his fingers. No broken bones, nothing missing. He sat up, staring at the heavy dressing. "I need to get out of here. I need to move, to run. I need to _fly_."

Optimus tilted his head slightly forward. "I suggest you get some clothes on first."

The Decepticon checked under the covers and flushed. "What the Pitt...?" Optimus only shook his head. With a slight grimace, Galvatron got out of bed and winced at the cold flooring. "You're right, Prime. I need clothes. Where are they?"

"I do not know what Bookworm did with them. There is, however an open gown at the foot of your bed."

Galvatron picked up the white article with a finger and thumb as if it were filthy and smelly. "This will not do," he said aloud. "Damn doctors and their bad sense of humor." He slipped the clean gown on backward and twisted round like a dog looking for the tie. "I know there's a belt here somewhere."

Stifling laughter Optimus went to help. "First," he said, "It's on backwards."

"But it's open like a robe," Galvatron whined.

"It's not a robe." Optimus held it open so that the befuddled Decepticon could slip it on with both arms.

"But, it leaves me butt-naked."

"So that doctors can examine you, Dummy."

"I don't wanna be examined!" Galvatron reached back as Optimus tied the gown behind him. "It's breezy back there."

"Just sneak back to your quarters, Galvatron. You'll be fine," Prime promised. He returned to Rusti's side while the Decepticon settled down. He paced one way, then another and finally stood still.

"You know," he said to Optimus. "The thought of walking the halls in bare skin sounds appealing; especially if it annoys Rodimus." He paused. "Wait a minute. Do I even have a change of clothes in my quarters?"

Again Optimus smiled but a hint of weariness rounded his eyes. "I have some in my quarters. You're welcome to use them. And honestly, Galvatron, no one really wants to see that much of you."

Galvatron turned toward the door with a grin. He hesitated then turned back to Optimus. "Is this the same as breaking out of jail?"

"What?"

"You know: AMA."

"Auto-mechanical abandonment?"

Galvatron could not tell if Optimus was seriously that ignorant or if he was joking. "Against Medical Advice."

"No one is advising you _anything._ Go away, Galvatron."

Whole-heartedly amused, the Decepticon slipped out the door. He made sure the corridor was devoid of traffic before proceeding forward. The coast was clear as the view of his ass. Encouraged, the Decepticon swiftly tracked the hall, making as little noise as possible. He took a left and down four steps into the quarters portion of the Infraction.

" _Hey! What goes you this way?"_

Galvatron squeaked and flattened his back to the cold metal wall. His right arm protested the sudden movement and he grimaced.

Pittstop, the fellow with green-tinted skin and large, bulbous eyeballs, stared at Galvatron like a hungry person at a steak. Pittstop pointed a long boney finger at Galvatron. "You's supposed to bes in sickbay, Galvatron. Bookworm says you gots poisoned."

Galvatron huffed nervously and cradled his injured arm. "Is that a fact? Is that why he thought it a great idea to stash my clothes?"

"What? Were you going to yours room?"

"Noticed that, did you?"

"Your escape plans need refinesment, Galvatron."

The otherwise sheepish Decepticon trained his face into neutral. "I used to fly out of such peculiar and embarrassing situations." Something gurgled in Galvatron's gut. He grinned with embarrassment and scooted down the wall. "My quarters await me, Pittstop."

"You're still unders medical care." Pittstop's large eyes grew larger at the _bomb-tastic_ sound Galvatron's body made. The alien's lips drew wide and thin before he cackled with laughter. He laughed and laughed then held his middle and laughed harder. He bowed over and kept laughing.

With a controlled, if nervous smile, Galvatron inched his way down the wall until he slipped into his quarters. Even when the steel door clanged shut, Pittstop's whooping laughter continued.

Galvatron leaned against the door, grateful for the privacy. He gently rubbed the growing pain spiking up and down his arm. Maybe leaving medbay wasn't so good an idea. No matter. Galvatron's restless state refused to settle. And while he stood in the middle of his quarters, doing nothing, his mind raced over a million subjects; where were they headed? Was everyone okay? Where was the kitchen? Didn't Optimus say he had extra clothes in his quarters?

The pain mutated into a burning sensation that soured his stomach and Galvatron knew someone was bound to give him an 'I-Told-You-So'. AMA: not so spectacular an idea, not when it felt as though someone shoved a long, fiery icepick into his wrist and up his shoulder. At first he thought finding better clothing a greater priority. But as the painkiller wore thin, his brain yearned to shut down.

 _AMA_ , he thought. _Won't do that again._ At least Optimus did not make fun of him. Or maybe he did. Auto-mechanical abandonment? Yeah, pretty sure Op made fun of him. The bed seduced his agitated, restless state. Galvatron nested his baldness into the pillow and little by little succumbed to the lure of sleep.

He woke much later and stared at the flat metal ceiling until his organic body begged him to take a trip to the lavatory, aching arm or not. After using the bathroom a number of times since their transformation, Galvatron learned to appreciate organic life forms. What a pain in the ass (literally) it was to stop several times a day to 'dump the trash'.

He washed and carefully dried his hands and upon returning to the main room, found a small pile of folded laundry on his bed. Were those there before? Or did someone enter his room? _Optimus' clothes_ , he realized. Atop the pile lay a handwritten note from Dot inviting him to the kitchen anytime he needed a snack.

Nice. He grabbed for the jeans and grit his teeth. Every move he made resonated with pain. Go slow. As he picked up the clothes, a hard cover book smacked the floor at his feet. Bracing for another dose of pain, he picked up the book and found page after page of blank lines. He huffed with a light smile. "Hello, Book," he said cheerfully. "How about a story?" Galvatron dropped the book on his bed and with one arm, put on underclothes and tugged on the jeans. The black T-shirt would have to wait.

"Oh, I guess you can't speak," he added. "That's a little antiquated, wouldn't you say? Oh. So sorry. You can't say because you don't have the words. _My job_ , right?"

He scanned the room for a pen or pencil. Delighted he found one, Galvatron sat at a little table and opened the first page. Of course, the great Decepticon was dexter. But Galvatron prided himself a mech of many talents and wrote with his left hand.

 _DEAR... BOOK._

That looked right.

 _I WRITE SINISTER BECAUSE AUTOBOT PRIMES AREN'T THE ONLY MECHS WITH AMAZING ADAPTIVE POWERS. TEN DAYS TO MECHLATEX. SO FAR, SO GOOD. I AM A FLESH CREATURE. AND SO IS EVERYONE ELSE. WELL, WE'VE BEEN FLESH CREATURES FOR..._

Galvatron paused and searched high and low for the date and time. To his consternation, he discovered he slept over two days. He calculated, failed and decided to take a good guess.

 _...OVER A WEEK NOW._

 _WELL, MAYBE NOT OVER A WEEK, BUT YOU GET THE GIST OF IT. I AM HANDSOME, ANNOYING, BALD AND HAD A GOOD TIME AT SOME SORT OF SPACE MALL._

 _OPTIMUS, IN HIS USUAL RELAXED SELF, IS TAKING THE SITUATION WELL. OF COURSE, HE'S GOT HIMSELF LOCKED IN THE RED CURLS OF THIS GIRL. (NOT THAT I BLAME HIM.)_

 _RODIMUS, CLOUDSTREAKER AND ULTRA MAGNUS ARE NOT FINDING OUR HUMANOID SITUATION QUITE AS AMUSING. CYCLONUS IS TAKING IT FAR BETTER THAN ANYONE._

 _I HAVE TO GO. BYE FOR NOW._

Galvatron wanted to write more but pain forced him back to the pillow. He tried to convince himself the throbbing, burning discomfort was nothing compared to the agony he once suffered under Unicron. Nothing topped that. Not even the life-sucking planet of Torqulon delivered that kind of pain. But the humanoid body mocked his fake macho delusion and forced him to bed, even if the pain kept him awake.

After a while the familiar sweet Song seeped into Galvatron's mind and lulled him into a mental dance. He softly hummed the remnants of the tune and thought it like a gentle lover; there one moment and faded the next. What a sweet Song.

Galvatron woke again but to the screech of a dying cat. He sat up and rubbed a stiff face. His head pounded and between the beats, woeful tones carried through the ship's vents; words slurred like a drunk man's melody. Galvatron ignored the bad music until he picked out what was sung:

 _YOU'RE PUSHING TOO HARD, UH PUSHIN' ON ME._

 _YOU'RE PUSHING TOO HARD, UH WHAT YOU WANT ME TO BE._

 _YOU'RE PUSHING TOO HARD, ABOUT THE THINGS YOU SAY._

 _YOU'RE PUSHING TOO HARD, EVERY NIGHT AND DAY._

 _YOU'RE PUSHING TOO HARD,_

 _YOU'RE PUSHING TOO HARD, ON ME..._

With a groan wrought of misery, Galvatron dropped back on the bed. His arm softly throbbed, reminding him of the need for a good painkiller. As soon as he had the energy, he vowed to march right back to medical.

Oh, but Rodimus. The horrible singing came from _Rodimus_. Galvatron knew because no one could be intentionally as irritating as Rodimus Prime.

Well, maybe Daniel came a close second.

Unable to sleep, Galvatron grabbed his writing book and pen.

 _DEAR BOOK_

 _RODIMUS IS BORED. I CAN HEAR HIM SING THROUGH THE AIR VENTS. SOMEONE WILL NEED TO SANITIZE THE SHIP._

 _I DON'T KNOW ALL THE SONG TITLES OR ARTISTS, BUT IT DOESN'T MATTER BECAUSE HE'S SINGING BADLY ON PURPOSE. NO SONG IS SACRED._

 _STAY HERE, BOOK. I'M OFF TO KILL A PRIME._

However he hesitated. If he planned to use more energy to leave his room, he should make it worth the effort. Thankfully, if oddly enough, the pain slowly subsided to a manageable ache. Feeling a little better, Galvatron opened drawers and cupboards until he found a pad of paper. He tore off a handful of sheets and scribbled the same notes on each of them.

Was five pages enough?

Was ten?

Fifteen?

He settled on twelve sheets of paper when Rodimus cranked his voice to the theme of the TV series 'Cheers'. The Decepticon smiled. It was time to verbally annoy Rodimus. Let the punishment fit the crime!

Galvatron started two doors from his quarters and pasted the hand-printed papers down one hall, round the corner and at the start of the next row of rooms.

More papers. He decided to forgo Rodimus in favor of his new-found campaign. Galvatron trailed down the rest of the hall, turned right and into his 'home hallway.' He paused abruptly when he caught Magnus setting a paint-and-glitter trap. And truly it was a lovely design. The trip wires strung into a lovely web, barely even visible. Magnus even made them sticky, like a real deal. Magnus sniggered and added a box of tacks as a final touch.

With questions on his lips, the Decepticon quietly approached as the Major-general produced a little black box from his back pocket.

Rodimus sang a ZZ Top song, cut half way through and sang something else from Pointer Sisters.

Galvatron smiled like a cat. "Whatchya doing?"

Magnus startled and fumbled with his toy. His eyes turned into whirlpools. He grabbed Galvatron by the shirt and hastily retreated down the hall and round the corner.

"What the hell 'r you doing here?!"

Galvatron shrugged his right shoulder. "I'm on a new campaign."

Magnus: not amused. "Yeah. I saw your posters."

Galvatron stood and bounced his brows once. "Education is important."

Magnus' mouth lined like a forbidden zone. "A _fart chart_ , Galvatron? That's hardly educational material and a little juvenile."

Galvatron looked innocent. "Everyone needs a hobby. And speaking of which, what were you building in the middle of the hallway?"

"Revenge."

Galvatron thought it un-Autobot-like. But then, Magnus was an exception to many rules. "And I'm juvenile _why_?"

"Later!" Magnus hissed. His voice smoothed into cool anticipation: "I'm about to have a perfect moment."

"You know," Galvatron said, "I think I saw something like this in a cartoo-"

"Sh!"

Rodimus' song shifted from a bad rendition of Natalie Cole to Johnny Cash. Galvatron winced. Did he have to do it to Johnny Cash?

Yes, because Roddi followed that with a piece from Pink Floyd.

Magnus pressed several buttons on his remote control. The door buzzer on Roddi's room called.

Magnus and Galvatron moaned when the annoying Prime changed his voice and tried to sing a song clearly not fit for his range. A little girl's hopscotch song or other equally as annoying trite tune warped under Rodimus' sense of humor.

Magnus pressed the button again.

The doors snapped open.

"WHAT?!" Rodimus exploded. "Oh shit." Magnus' near-invisible web plastered Roddi's entire front side. White paint sprayed him from the other side of the hall and then feathers followed. Not feathers with quills. No, no. Magnus made certain he used down feathers; little fluffy pieces of joy.

" **OP-TI-MMUSSS!** " Roddi shouted, "I'm coming for you!"

Galvatron kept his cool and silently laughed. Magnus, however, slid silently to the floor and bit his finger to keep from bursting.

They waited, frozen to the wall and held their breath until Rodimus retreated into his quarters. Magnus peeked, keeping head and shoulders as close to the floor as possible.

He sat back, released his breath and nodded. "We're good. It's good."

They sat quietly until Galvatron spoke up. "He thinks Optimus did this."

"I know. I heard."

"That's not going to go well."

"Better they than me."

"You are in grave danger, Magnus," the Decepticon cautioned.

Ultra Magnus studied his companion. "Did you just leave medbay?"

"No. Why?"

"Where've you been?"

"In my quarters, where there's real clothing and a journal to write in."

Magnus shook his head. "You don't know what happened?" He waited for Galvatron to shake his head. A chunk of lead sat at the bottom of Magnus' stomach. "Galvatron, something is wrong with Cyclonus. He's in medbay with Bookworm right now."

Galvatron paled, jumped to his feet and took the first few steps backward, eyes lingered on Magnus. He swung around and ran for medbay.

 **OPTIMUS**

Galvatron barreled for the group and Optimus braced to catch him as the shopping environment dissolved. The transporter room received them in a tight corner; too many bodies in one space. The ship shuddered with a blunt impact and alarms drowned his thoughts. " _Attention,_ _Infraction_ _, captain and crew: space station security has identified a stowaway on board your vessel. Please stand by..._

Galvatron would have crashed face-first had Optimus not caught him. The Decepticon's right hand leaked blood everywhere. "'m gonna kill s-squints," Galvatron muttered in Prime's left ear.

The Autobot leader ignored him when Rodimus laid Rusti on the floor and shouted for Bookworm's help.

Bookworm snapped his fingers at Optimus and pointed to the doorway while the Infraction's crew dispersed. "Get him to medbay!"

With no alternative, Optimus secured his friend and hobbled out the transporter room. Galvatron reverted into his own language, saying a few things Optimus vowed never to repeat. They made it to medical and passed through decontamination with a few choice words from Prime himself.

"You're going to get us both killed, Galvatron," he swore.

Galvatron started to weep as Prime laid him on a bed. "Don't say that," he sobbed. "You're a friend!" His right arm fell uselessly away and his eyes flared hot. "Stay my friend, Optimus!"

The doors whisked apart before Prime said anything. Rodimus laid Rusti on a bed a few feet away while Bookworm added another shot. Without pausing, he uncapped a syringe and all but pushed the Autobot aside. "Move." he jabbed Galvatron's right wrist first then sank another shot into his neck.

Optimus stood beside Rusti and clenched the edge of the table. Just a few hours ago they were alone and free from duty and responsibility. Focus, focus, focus.

"Bookworm, is there anything we can do to help Captain Parthon?" The doctor answered, but Prime paid him no attention. The leader in him tried to press beyond the moment but the lover refused to let go.

Parthon's voice filled medical: "Rough ride ahead, folks. Hunker down!"

The Infraction's hyper-jump seized Optimus with fear. All life monitors shut off and he thought his skin diffused like insubstantial matter in water. But the crisis ended and ship and passengers remained intact.

Neither Prime enjoyed the jarring sensation nor did they appreciate how they left the Cygnus with Quintessons tailgating their bumpers. Prime and Prime paid Captain Parthon a visit. Fortunately Rodimus' head was clearer. He asked all the questions and dished out comments when and where appropriate.

Optimus, on the other hand, listened to Pissant carefully and kept no illusions regarding the uncouth sapient mollusk. He disapproved of the mouthy mollusk who clearly controlled Cyclonus, no matter how subtle. The fact that the Decepticon lieutenant did not complain over his new job demonstrated a great strength of character or something more sinister.

The medbay doors slid open and Magnus poked his head through. He met Prime's eyes. "I'll take care of Daniel, Prime." He nodded toward Rusti. "How is she?"

Optimus swallowed the block in his throat. "Her... she'll be okay. I just can't leave-" The Autobot leader looked away, ashamed of his shift in priorities.

Magnus nodded, silently supportive. "Call if you need anything."

"Thank you, Ultra Magnus," Prime said whole-heartedly.

Magnus let slip a small smile. "You know you never have to, Prime." The city commander departed, leaving Optimus in solitude. The Autobot leader resigned himself to keep vigil over Rusti and Galvatron.

Three hours after their escape from Cygnus, Galvatron woke up with his brain disengaged. He insisted leaving for his own quarters. Optimus couldn't blame him. The offensive odor of antiseptics, medications and sterilizing fluids left a bitter taste in his mouth. More than that, however, Galvatron felt confined.

Bookworm left to bake a meal in the kitchen and when he returned half an hour later, the doctor/chef glowered his displeasure at Prime.

Optimus understood. He didn't care, but he understood.

Bookworm prepared three vials of medication before saying anything. "How about you off and follow your friend's example and get sleep?" Prime stared as if he heard nothing. With a deep scowl, Bookworm picked up a scanner and ran it over Rusti twice before reading the results. "She's still under. The medication works but it'll be a while yet. Go get sleep, Autobot. You do her no good with self-inflicted deprivation."

Optimus did not answer right away. "How about I sleep on Galvatron's bed?"

"I need to sterilize it," Bookworm answered tersely. "Go to your own quarters."

"I do not want to leave her."

"I can see that. Thank you. She is not going anywhere. Go sleep."

Optimus obeyed after ten more minutes of Bookworm's terse nagging. Leaving Rusti was like detaching a leg or an arm. To be truthful, he dreaded sleep. Dreams skipped across his head with shadowy and distorted images while memories left painful reminders in his soul. Worry for Rusti kept all those things at bay.

Optimus counted fifteen steps out medical and he already missed her. Rusti's presence gave him a sense of home. He watched her grow up; this little _entity_ whose attachment to him and Roddi gave Optimus the sense of family he did not have since... so long ago. Optimus supposed he should think it odd that he never felt fatherly toward her. In fact, it was she who taught him more than the other way around.

As he lay in the near-dark, Prime realized neither he nor Rodimus taught Rusti how to walk. She slept on his desk during emergency visits. She watched cartoons on his wall screen. She picked flowers on their Sunday afternoon drives.

 _How did we ever start that?_

It was a game.

It was a _game_.

 _Omk zh'vvupteen_. I. PLAY. NO. GAMES.

 _There was a card game._

 _Tiny, tiny cards with colors on them._

Memory.

Yes, Memory. It was Optimus' turn.

A card; yellow as the sun, yellow as a daisy.

Rusti sang. That's what happy little girls do.

She poured a cup of tea. The cup was empty because it was only _pretend_ tea.

WHAT POINT HAVING WHEN NON-EXISTENT?

 _You have no soul. You're not supposed to ask those kind of questions._

She hummed while he held the yellow card.

An old man and his thumb. Monkeys jumping on the bed. Ten monkeys on the bed.

Not monkeys, Autobots.

Listen up. Listen, because Optimus made his own version. Listen because Dark and Desolate nested in his mind.

" _Ten little Autobots walking on the line_

 _One fell off and lost his mind._

 _God called the doctor and the doctor chimed:_

 _Just move on and leave it behind."_

OH WAIT! WAIT! There's another one! Remember? Yes, there was another one:

 _Two Autobot Primes dancing from the strings_

 _one tore off and broke his wings._

 _God called the doctor, but the devil replied,_

 _don't worry about them, they've already died._

The Virus screeched and rammed its head directly at Optimus. He cried out and shot up from the pillow. Spooked, Prime leapt off the bed and slammed his back against the door.

There was darkness. There was darkness and silence and the vast emptiness within the shell of the Matrix.

Optimus' heart slammed against the breastbone. Nope. No sleeping. No more sleeping. He swept up an undershirt and headed straight for medbay.

No Bookworm. Optimus directed his senses from wall to wall but only picked up Rusti's presence.

The senior Prime returned to his chair and sighed. "I suppose it's just the two of us, Sweetheart."

The medbay doors opened and Plucky poked his head forward. "Books? Anybody seen Books? Or maybe-oh, hey!" he fully entered, eyes on Rusti. "How she be?"

Optimus offered a kind smile but did not answer until the Infraction's second-in-command approached. "Bookworm was not here when I arrived," he answered. "And she's okay, just sleeping off the treatments."

Plucky smiled broadly. "It's good," he approved. "Never good to see suffering." he turned about, aimed for the door then stopped and spun back around. "Can I talk with you?"

Optimus gave him visual attention and wordlessly nodded. Taking permission, Plucky grabbed Bookworm's favorite stool and planted himself thereon with a rigid back and an eager expression. "We don't have any plans." He blinked, waited and blinked again. "How about I translate myself?"

"That would be helpful, yes."

"We're vagabonds. We take jobs; shipping cargo, transportation for planet-hopers. We pass info via Dot's radio station. This whole Automatrons thing? Way beyond our jobs norm. Don't matter what Pissant says. We got neither licence nor equipment for some sorta rescue squad. Pissant's kissing up. I caught that ball. But it doesn't mean we're obliged. But you guys: large ship, off to another part of the galaxy, far away from our war. Good fit."

Optimus nodded slowly. "Doesn't seem to be much of a war, here, however. Where are your warriors? Where are your armies?"

Plucky shook his head. "Glad you see that. Not kidding about the bones people in danger. Pissant's unbearable to deal with, right? But he's right. The Automatrons gotta get help. We're not help."

Optimus weighed the information. "We are willing to take Darzon with us. But he needs to understand we might not return for a long, long time. Our situation is unpredictable."

Plucky tightly pursed his lips. "Not just Darzon, Optimus Prime. Not just Darzon. No. There's more. The Automatron we're rescuing knows where the rest are."

"I am not so sure they would be any safer with us, Plucky. We are gearing up forces to strike at the Quintessons. That's not ideal refuge conditions."

Plucky leaned forward and spoke slowly. "But they won't be living exosuits, Optimus Prime. They won't be lobotomized and enslaved."

That hit home with the Autobot leader. He sat back and considered options. "Very well. However, it would be helpful to know more about Mechlatex. It's been millions of years since I've..." Prime dropped his head, unable to complete his comment.

Plucky dropped his head to his shoulder. "We have Mechlatex information. It's complicating. Haven't been there in two revolutions; some info might be dated."

"It's a start," Optimus accepted.

Plucky vanished and returned fifteen minutes later with paper notebooks, rolled maps and a short stack of books. "Nuthin's been electronic transferred. Stuff's smuggled from person to person over the last ten Tumilitian solar revolutions."

Prime accepted the items, glanced over the books then lifted his blue eyes. "How did you come by them?"

Plucky clasped hands behind his back and rocked on his heels. "I won them." he paused and pointed to the air. "Fairly, I'll add. I didn't cheat."

Optimus laughed and examined the books again. He now found a purpose.

Before plunging head-first into Mechlatex's history, Prime studied road and geological maps. _It's been seven million, some-odd Earth-years,_ he thought. Map One presented cities and towns, lakes, mountains and jungles.

Map Two showed a more politico-social range.

Map Three contained several pages of planetary photos taken from space. The first fold-out page looked familiar to the Autobot leader. Wide open deserts, mile-high mountains and forests choked with giant trees. But by the fourth page, he found a list of extinct species, both animal and sapient.

The same story throughout the galaxy. Something good comes into existence and little by little, it fades into history, legend and myth. Nothing remains the same.

Page eight alarmed him. Whole sections of Mechlatex turned metallic.

"This cannot be correct," he said aloud. Optimus pondered and carefully re-examined the maps. When logic failed, he decided to find someone with answers.

He called Plucky. Plucky sent him to Dot. Dot invited him to her quarters.

The old lady welcomed him into a room as stuffed with her vast music collection as her 'radio closet'. Even part of her bed shared cases and boxes of media recordings.

Dot made room for him at her two-person table. She poured tea before dragging a large, fat book off a shelf in her 'junk room'. Optimus removed most of his materials as she took her seat.

"So you're wondering what the hell is going on with Planet Mechlatex."

Prime stabbed Page Eight with a finger. "I want to know what is causing this. Is this real?"

"It is," Dot confirmed. "And yes, it's a natural process." she answered simply. "The -here, you need something up to date." she opened the giant book, flipped the large tome around and pointed to three photos from space.

A shiver ran down Optimus' back. The planet he once knew changed to ten percent organic, the rest metal. He had one word: "How?"

"Another wonder of the universe, my friend," she flipped several pages ahead and pointed to photographs of tall twisted metallic structure. "What'll really bake your brain is that these things are alive."

"What?"

"They grow, strands break off at the edge and they keep growing."

"A metallic tree?"

"Best guess." Dot sipped her hot tea. "Conspiracy nuts swear on their mother's grave Psyklenox is responsible for the change. But it's been proven time and again that what's going on, crazy as it is, the planet is changing its own composition."

Optimus studied each photograph and committed it to memory. "Mechlatex was nothing like this the last time I was there."

Dot's question hung in the air until she had to ask: "How long ago was that?"

The Autobot leader counted in rounded numbers and smiled just a little. "About seven million years ago."

Dot's face turned blank with shock. "I knew Transformers lived a long time, but _that_ long?"

Optimus looked at her with the same smile in his eyes. "Alpha Trion, a first-generation Autobot, existed before the Thaldounite Empire died out."

Dot shook her head and blinked. "I'm no sweet young thing but _that old?"_ Optimus nodded. "Well," she continued, "do you know anything of Psyklenox? You did say you've been to Mechlatex before. I'm old, but not old enough to remember when that son of a devil took Mechlatex for his own. Seems he's always been there."

"He has not. But the last time I've been to Mechlatex, Cybertron passed through this solar system. That is why I'm so surprised. Mechlatex was an organic world wild with plant life." Optimus sent his gaze to the right. "However, I don't recall seeing animals or insects. There were no life forms; just organic vegetation."

"Huh. A planet with plant life but no animals? Unusual, but not unheard of."

Optimus nodded once. "Psyklenox was only a myth up to that point in Cybertronian history. He was remembered because Alpha Trion remembered him."

Dot lifted a finger. "I see. And exactly what did this Trion of yours remember?"

Prime took a sip of tea and smiled into the cup, remembering tea parties and stuffed animals. "Trion and Psyklenox were both first generation Quintesson mechanoids." With eyes on the photographs, Prime did not see the old lady's jaw drop. "There were others, of course," he added. "But they're gone and forgotten. Alpha Trion served on Cybertron while Psyklenox was often off-world. According to Trion, Psyklenox was the very first prototype; an accident, for all intents. I believe that Psyklenox was the Quintesson's first experiment with artificial intelligence. Trion once said that implants from a Quintesson brain were interfaced with _crypta-mechanical_ life force frequencies."

Dot gasped. "Anti-life?" Optimus solemnly nodded. Dot narrowed her eyes. "That explains why energy weapons are ineffective against him. In fact, it explains a great deal about him. And when people say he's the son of a devil, they're not far wrong." Again Prime nodded and drank more tea. Dot studied him and pursed her lips. "You hold dark memories, don't you? I know that look. I've seen it on the faces of those who survived torture and war."

Prime pasted his eyes on her long before surrendering an answer. "I have history with Psyklenox." He let that phrase dangle between them before adding more: "it started good and promising. But it ended..." His eyes fell away.

"It ended badly," Dot guessed. "It ended ugly?"

Optimus' stare drifted. "Tens of thousands, Dot. Thousands of thousands." his palpable grief hung thick like rain that failed to fall. Optimus drew a deep breath. "There are times I wonder how I survived as I have. Or perhaps it's not so much survival as it has been rescue."

The old lady let silence settle before pouring them both fresh cups of tea. She lifted her own cup. "I too, have been rescued a number of times, Optimus. So here's to the rescuers: the sapient and the Divine."

Optimus lifted his cup and they drank. Thereafter, he closed the large book and stood. "Thank you, Dot. You've been very helpful. If you'll excuse me, I need to see how Rusti is doing."

He almost reached the door when Dot spoke again. "Maybe you'll not mind telling me more about your pretty girl some time." Their eyes met. "It's most unusual that anyone recognizes Pissant as Primacron."

"Even I don't know that story," he answered stiffly. The old lady nodded and Prime left for medbay.

Bright grey eyes smiled at him the moment Prime entered medbay. He froze and deeply drank the sight of red curls and soft lips. That was not a sweet little girl whose gaze stole his breath, but a woman who held his heart, his life in her delicate hands.

" _People can't fall in love three times in their life. Can they Optimus?"_ How many life times ago did she ask that question? He approached, set the books and papers on the table beside her bed and reached for her hands. " _Rusti."_ He lost his voice, bowed his head in embarrassment and grinned.

She rubbed his hands with her thumbs and peered into his face. "Optimus, are you going to blush all day or are you going to kiss me?"

He bowed over and touched her lips with his. Rusti grinned and lowered her chin so that his lips met her forehead. "I need a shower," she declared.

"Did you need help?" The words slipped out without Prime realizing their double connotation. She laughed and for him, the whole room brightened.

Rusti settled back while her eyes ate him up head to toe. "How long was I out?"

He sat on Bookworm's stool and drew a deep breath. "Sixty-seven hours and forty-two minutes." The Autobot leader shrugged. "Standard Pacific Time, of course."

"Of course," she echoed. "What happened and where is the closest refrigerator? I'm famished."

Before Optimus answered, the medbay doors opened and Bookworm hurriedly entered. Captain Parthon and Pittstop followed him, carrying Cyclonus on a stretcher. They laid him on Galvatron's bed and removed the stretcher from under him.

Optimus stood, alarmed. "What happened?"

 **CYCLONUS**

 _Sounds. Voices. Images._

 _Round and round._

 _Sounds. Voices. Images._

 _Round and round._

 _Who are you? What's your name?_

 _Who are you, what's your name?_

 _What's your name?_

 _His life traveled backward. Yolthanis. Bare Anches. Cratis. Earth. Mars. Skorponok. Vector Sigma. The Hate Plague. Back and back and back. Unicron. Megatron. South America. The crashing ship. Bombshell._

 _He was Bombshell._

 _He was Bombshell._

 _No._

 _He FLEW the Bombshell, a prototype PSX 427 jet fighter that exceeded mach 105.2 with the ease of a hydrojet on grease._

 _His life traveled forward. Alaska. The academy. Mars. Europa. The Lunar War. Forward and forward and forward. The Hate Plague. Marla. Stephani. His children: Joshaua, Shotero and Courtney. His mistress, Pricillia DeMarco._

 _Forward until The Rift tore him apart._

 _Back. Stop. Take one moment. Take another. Doctor Harding warned of time disorientation. She said the new fuel formula might tamper with the flux and flow of tachyon particles. The PSX 427, the_ _Bombshell_ _was so top secret, Jackson was not allowed to live off base for six months._

 _What of Stephani? What of Josh, Shotero and Courtney? If he died here, he'd regret cheating on his wife. She was a good woman._

 _He clicked on the mic and checked the cockpit's temperature. "Hello, Stockville," he called. "Are we there yet?"_

 _Colonel Hawk smiled as he spoke. "What's a matter, Jackson? Getting itchy or bored?"_

" _No," Jackson sighed. "And why do you insist using my first name, Colonel? Keep it up and I'll announce your middle name over the airwaves."_

" _You're a dept bugger, Cyclonus, Sir," the colonel pouted. "Hang tight, Son, we'll get you into space all too soon."_

 _Lieutenant Cyclonus huffed. "Hold all my calls, then, would you, Colonel? I have to step out of the office for a bit."_

 _Hawk grunted. "You going for a milk run, Cyclonus?"_

" _Maybe."_

" _Space humor," Hawk frowned. "In and out of reality." he paused when someone in the background spoke then returned to the astronaut. "We're on the go, Jackson. Better use the little boy's room before you head off."_

 _With a snort, Lieutenant Jackson Cyclonus waited for the countdown and the rush of adrenaline as the jet shot off the ground and into the air. The hypersonic speed pressed against his chest and lungs. The computer compensated for the pressure and adjusted the cabin's comfort zone._

" _Stockville," Cyclonus called, "What's the speed limit here?"_

 _Colonel Hawk scoffed. "Didn't anyone tell you, Lieutenant? You're the one who's going to find out."_

 _The test pilot's subtle smile broadened and he applied the first thrusters. "Mach two," he announced._

 _Mach 24._

 _Mach 105._

 _Mach 3..._

 _Cyclonus took his eyes off the equipment. The skies looked strange. The clouds around him smeared as though brushed by a human hand. The ethereal light gave him a sense of surrealism. Was he dreaming all this? And if so, it was the greatest sense of euphoria he ever experienced._

 _He felt nothing, even when blood soaked his suit. He felt nothing even when the jet around him ceased to exist. Great metallic walls and a dark world appeared around him. Blue lines raced on either side of him. Drunk with euphoria, the lieutenant saw nor felt anything until it was too late. He slammed into a star. It choked him. The shock ripped his mind apart and memories not his own cris-crossed into and out of his existence._

 _Forward and forward. Bombshell. Earth. The crashing ship. South America. Forward and forward: The Hate Plague. Skorponok. Mars. Bare Anches. Yolthanis._

 _NOW!_

Cyclonus sucked in all the oxygen possible in a single breath and screamed.

 **-INCLINATION-**

Rusti ate a light meal, showered and changed into real clothes while they waited for news from Bookworm. She sat in a kitchen chair and tugged on boots while Optimus told her of his research. She stood, stretched and swept wrinkles off her pants.

"Psyklenox is sort of a _Trion_ -class Autobot?"

Optimus blinked at her, stopped short by the unusual question. "Technically, Trion was never Autobot or Decepticon. The split did not occur until millions of years later."

"But your description sounds like Trion was a prototype Autobot and Psyklenox, a prototype Decepticon." She folded her arms and gazed into his eyes, thinking carefully. "Optimus, did you say he was anti-life?"

He stammered. "S-sort of. It's the best way to describe-"

"The Virus is anti-life." Silence spread between them as Prime raced through the implications. Their moment halted when Dot touched the threshold.

"Bookworm's done. Thought you'd like to know."

Bookworm ripped off his gloves and dropped a mask as he stepped into medbay's entry room. Expectant faces and worried eyes met him.

"Can't tell what's wrong," he announced "Don't know what's-I don't know or understand. Yet, Galvatron remains unaffected."

Captain Parthon glowered at Pittstop. "Well, then, the _werm_ will have to tell us what's wrong."

Pittstop nodded as if his head were attached to a spring. "Yeses to that, Captain P," he agreed, "Don't mean he will. Weird how Pissant stucks to hims like a parasite."

Parthon stared at Bookworm but spoke to Pittstop. "Get Plucky and _tell_ Pissant he needs to be here." The captain looked at Pittstop to make himself clear.

Optimus: "Can Pissant heal Cyclonus? He changed Darzon and us into humans. Perhaps he made a mistake with Cyclonus."

Dot answered the question: "Pissant can do a lot of things, Optimus. Doesn't mean he will."

Captain Parthon sighed heavily. "He's told me on more than one occasion he's limited to-and I quote-"X-number of miracles in a day."

Rusti huffed. "Super creatures." She caught her breath as Magnus and Galvatron entered the doorway. Optimus gave Magnus a double-take, wondering why the Major-general blossomed with happiness.

"Magnus," Galvatron said, "Magnus, um, said something was wrong. No one told me."

"It just happened, Galvatron," Rusti answered. She held no fear even when his bright red eyes nailed her.

" _What_ just happened _?_ " he demanded.

Parthon's scowl deepened. "We found Cyclonus unconscious in his quarters. I've sent Pittstop to get the slug."

No one had words appropriate enough to ease Galvatron's anxiety. He slowly blinked. "What has that abomination have to do with anything?"

The group turned to the right in unison when Pissant's little voice shouted down the hall. " _Plucky, you're thacking lucky I can't kill you! I protest! You take me back right NOW!"_

Parthon's second-in-command approached with a soured face. He held the snail away from his body, his hands dripped with slime and a runny brown substance.

Parthon and Dot moaned and rolled their eyes. "Seriously, Pissant?" they chorused.

"It's worse," Plucky gagged. "He's been eating carp liver."

Pittstop maneuvered two feet around Plucky. "He won't let me washes him off, Captain."

"I _like_ my liver!" Pissant snarled. "Now what the Torments is this all about?"

"You tell us, Buster," the captain demanded. "Bookworm can't figure out what's wrong with Cyclonus and I know that you know."

"What?" Pissant spat. "Why don't you just ask the girl, or whatever she is?"

All eyes bounced from Rusti to Pissant.

Parthon folded his arms. "I'm asking _you_. You're responsible for this mess. I expect you to have the courtesy to help fix it."

"I _can't_." Pissant replied succinctly. "His condition is among the two or three things that are far above and beyond my superior, supernatural abilities."

Exasperated, Galvatron pointed toward medical. "I don't care what your excuse is. Fix him!"

Pissant groaned and pointed at Galvatron. "Forward, Plucky, if you don't mind." Everyone gave the icky mollusk and his reluctant bearer a clear path. "Now listen, mighty warrior. The universe does not adhere to anyone's wishes. Shit is allowed to happen. Do you get that? No matter how powerful a creature may be, a creature is still a creature, not a god. Your precious Cyclonus suffers from co-habitation with a persona from another reality. How that happened, _why_ it happened is beyond my amazing powers. Are you happy now?"

Pissant eyed Rusti with disgust until Rusti realized he probed her mind.

"What are you staring at?" she snapped.

"Not _what_ ," Pissant corrected, " _who_."

She bristled with half a mind to flip him off. But the mollusk would more likely laugh at her than feel offended.

Galvatron schooled his expression into neutral, turned about face and walked away.

"Hey!" Pissant called after. "Where do you think you are going?"

Galvatron did not face the accursed snail. "To do some thinking."

Optimus folded his arms. "Leave him alone."

Pissant scoffed. "Good luck with that."

"Shut up, Pissant," Parthon, Bookworm and Rusti chorused.

Galvatron treaded the corridor like a wounded soldier determined to reach home. He entered his quarters and dropped on the bed, stunned and exhausted. The old powerless feeling came back. What would he do if he lost Cyclonus? Why was this happening? Why? A cold sadness settled at the pit of Galvatron's innards and it felt as if he were rotting from the inside out.

Fear held him tight; a vice that petrified his muscles and squeezed his heart. No one meant more to him than Cyclonus. Oh, Galvatron was painfully aware he did not deserve Cyclonus' loyalty and friendship. Of all the soldiers and right-hand mechs Megatron had throughout the megania, not one of them measured up to Cyclonus. Even Soundwave did not reach the same standards. Soundwave was hard working and loyal but he was not a friend.

Galvatron swallowed hard and wiped a tear from his eye. He searched the ceiling with a desperate sadness. "Please," he begged softly, "if you must take a life, take _mine._ I'm the worthless one, remember?" he choked. "I'm the worthless one!"

Just because the room remained silent did not mean Galvatron's plea went unheard. He knew that. All this time, all these years he and Cyclonus remained safe with the Autobots. Events did not affect them as they did Grimlock or the Primes or Sunstreaker. Galvatron fell into a false sense of security, almost assured the storms of life whirled around them like a tornado, striking this person or that; missing them entirely. He and Cyclonus were part of the refugees, but separate of their plight. Galvatron knew, of course, that he and his friend were every bit a part of the bedraggled and homeless fleet as the humanoids whose cards were cast into the same deck.

This moment now tested Galvatron's faith and loyalty. The choice before him: back out and search for help on his own, or stay with the Autobots no matter the consequences.

In for a penny, in for a pound, isn't that what he said at the start?

Eat your words, oh mighty Decepticon! You who took that second chance will now stand on it!

One sweet Note echoed through the chambers of his wounded heart followed by another. Like keys on a piano, the Melody tumbled as if from Eternity into his soul.

Is that not the same sweet tune that called him time after time? Music like morning dew sparking in spring sunlight. Gentle notes beckoned his heart: listen. Yes, the Music spoke again. Its sweet haunting melody offered wordless promises.

Why did it sound so clearer, so pronounced now? Or was it that Galvatron began to understand its preternatural language? His spark reached for it; oh, just out of grasp!

" _I'm coming,_ " he whispered. Its profound beauty lulled him to sleep.

Galvatron awoke an hour later. He felt better, though still eaten raw with anxiety. Breathe. Breathe. He needed to do something. He needed to be someplace. With a firm decision, the Decepticon nabbed his pen, picked up the journal and headed for medical.

A quiet ship and sleeping crew kindly stayed out of his business. Galvatron's mood refused to compromise with niceties. He entered medbay, barely tolerated decontamination, and found himself a chair. With one leg crossing a knee, Galvatron watched Cyclonus a long time before opening the journal.

 _DEAR BOOK_

 _I WANT TO BLAME MYSELF FOR CYCLONUS' STATE. IF I WERE TO BLAME MYSELF, THEN PERHAPS I COULD FIX IT. BUT I AM NOT AND I CANNOT. IT'S FRUSTRATING AND UNSETTLING AND IT'S TWISTING MY GUT._

 _AS FOR EVERYONE ELSE, THEY'RE WORRIED ALSO. NOT AS AFFECTED AS I, HOWEVER._

 _BEFORE THE INCIDENT, ULTRA MAGNUS THOUGHT IT CUTE TO PRANK. I SWEAR I'VE NEVER SEEN MAGNUS SO HAPPY. HE WAS HUMMING-YES, HUMMING! RODIMUS, NO DOUBT, IS ON A WAR PATH. AND WHILE I STOOD WITNESS TO THE PRANK, I WAS NOT INVOLVED. I SUPPOSE I OUGHT TO WARN OPTIMUS BUT I AM CONFIDENT THAT SOONER OR LATER HE WILL FIND OUT FOR HIMSELF._

 _WE ARE EIGHT DAYS ON THE CELESTIAL HIGHWAY. I FEEL CONFINED, TRAPPED. I NEED TO RUN, I NEED TO FLY. THERE'S AN INTERNAL ITCH I CANNOT SCRATCH AND PRIVATELY, WE CANNOT REACH MECHLATEX SOON ENOUGH._

 _I AM SERIOUSLY UNAMUSED WITH THE DAMN SNAIL. MAYBE SOME TABLE SALT WILL EXPRESS FOR ME HOW I FEEL._

Galvatron closed the journal and settled back in chair. Each time he laid eyes on his friend, he expected Cyclonus' condition to change. But the former lieutenant remained comatose, unresponsive; lost.

 **-INCLINATION-**

Rusti woke and did not recognize her surroundings. Warm silken sheets comforted her from the oppressive dark. Across the room sat a figure, darker than the dark.

Just a dream, she told herself. Don't be afraid. Rusti sat up and touched the lamp beside her. That was when she found Optimus, sleeping soundly, facing her.

"It's rude to sit and watch people sleep," she said to the entity.

"I watch everything," came a stiff, masculine reply. He approached the bed in long strides, a cane kept time with his footsteps. He stood before her dressed in a tan suit, a fedora and the polished wooden cane in his right hand. "What I want to know, Human, is how you communicated with me. No one has ever communicated with me."

Rusti stared at him and tried to unravel the puzzle. She tilted her head to the right and made a wild guess. "Infraction?"

"No other."

"But you're not an Autobot ship. How... _how?"_

"I don't know, Human. But you see me. You hear me. I'm guessing that makes me a living thing."

A million things ran through her head but only one word answered him: "Okay."

"You're not new to this, are you?"

"No. But it's still strange and unsettling. And I am most likely dreaming it, aren't I?"

The Infraction's persona did not answer right away and Rusti almost turned out the light when he spoke again. "You're headed to Mechlatex."

"Yes, we are." she confirmed.

He nodded. "I should very much like re-tuning on my port wing. Will you let Pipsqueak know that? Mechlatex has the finest tuning rods in the regime."

"Why do you need your wing tuned? What does that mean?"

Infraction planted both palms on his cane and leaned into it. "I have metal fatigue, Human. Jumping hyperspace can be hard on metal and certain frequencies will allow me to heal myself."

"Frequencies," she recited. "Okay."

He started to fade then reappeared. "Oh, another thing, Human. Inform Pipsqueak that the conduit cusps on the entanglement assimilator are on backwards."

" _One. Two. Three. Four. Five..."_

Rusti woke to Optimus' soothing voice. She blinked when his finger tapped the air above her face.

"Nine. Ten..."

"Are you counting my freckles again? I'm going to start wearing makeup."

Prime lay back, a soft smile splayed his lips. "I'll still find them," he assured her.

They lay quiet for a while before Rusti spoke: "I'm starving."

"So am I."

"Pancakes-no! _Waffles_! With _lots_ of bacon. And scrambled eggs and cranberry parfait."

Optimus looked at her. "They don't have Denny's here, Rusti."

"Yeaaaah," she mourned. "I miss that.

Optimus held quiet another moment. "I miss some aspects of that life, also. Saturday morning cartoons, Sunday drives. Picking you up from school."

Rusti raised her brows. "Well, I don't miss school. But I do miss the Dinobots. In fact, I miss everyone. I hope we get back before I turn old and grey." she paused. "What if we don't? What if we end up stuck here?"

"There's no such thing as 100% guarantee in life, Little Bell. There was no guarantee Roddi and I would survive the Virus." She could stare at him all day if given a chance. Optimus had a beautiful form. He sat up and for the first time, Rusti noticed the Autobot symbol tattooed on his left shoulder.

"Breakfast," she repeated. "And I want to see how Cyclonus is doing."

"No shower?" Prime asked as if disappointed.

"Optimus," she whispered. "If I stay in bed with you much longer _neither_ of us will get anything done."

He fixed his eyes on her. "Will you kiss me? I need to make sure this is real."

With an eager grin, Rusti sat on her knees, wrapped arms around his head and kissed him.

BREAKFAST

Bookworm refused to leave Cyclonus. Captain Parthon stepped up and made one plate after another. Sweet cakes, coffee, canned fruit and meat sat on the table, bracing for snatch-and-go.

Magnus ate like a machine. Hot sauce smothered eggs, meat and a small bowl of hot peppers vanished in minutes. Cloudstreaker sat beside him holding a one-sided conversation while he flipped through notes and schematics of his beloved ship.

Darzon sat beside Dot who urged him to read news off a pad.

Optimus held a chair out for Rusti before sitting between her and Darzon. The captain set coffee before Optimus and Rusti and refilled Dot's large mug.

Pipsqueak entered wearing a puffy robe and animal slippers. Her hair stuck out of place at the top while her eyes struggled to stay open. She dropped in the chair beside Cloudstreaker who fell wordless and slumped.

Optimus glanced from one shipmate to the next. "Has anyone seen or spoken to Galvatron?"

Pipsqueak and Dot gave him a negative answer before Parthon reentered the dining room with another plate of steamy goodness. "He's not left Cyclonus. I don't think he slept. Bookworm whines but it's because he's not used to an audience. And by the way, Optimus Prime, that Daniel-fellow? I have a plate for him."

Optimus startled. "Who fed him last?"

Magnus lifted a hand. "Me. Last night. Again."

"I'll do it," Rusti volunteered.

"Not a good idea," Magnus cautioned.

Optimus gently squeezed her hand. "I'd rather you not go near him, Rusti."

Rusti's voice turned firm and confident. "You and Magnus and Roddi have taken quite a bit of BS from him. I'll take a turn." she smiled and blinked. "Just once."

Magnus looked up from a tablet. "Would you like to borrow my gun?"

"For what?"

"Oh, I don't know," Magnus drawled, "In case you can't stand him after the initial five seconds. Of course, seeing you might agitate him." Magnus sat back in his chair. "I like that idea. Get his frame bent out of shape."

Rusti nodded, appreciating Magnus' light humor. "Okay," her eyes drifted to Pipsqueak who ate three pieces of fruit and bread with jam. "Pipsqueak," she said, "the Infraction said its port wing needs re-tuning and the conduit cusps on the assimilator are on backwards."

Everyone except Magnus and Optimus stared at the red-head with confusion. Parthon drew a chair and sat beside Magnus.

"The what now? What's that mean?"

Pipsqueak lapped her arms on the table and drew a small smile. "The Infraction spoke to you, did she?"

"He," Rusti corrected. "And yes. I know that sounds weird."

"Hmm. Might be weird for Humans. My cousin was a watchmaker who could change watches to make them run backwards yet keep perfect time."

Cloudstreaker squeaked in surprise. Pissant transported onto the table, snapped his fingers at her and crawled toward the fruit bowl.

"What a lovely sight. Good day to you, Darzon. _Sketz staw?_ "

"Yes. Yes." the humanoid Automatron stammered.

"Very good. And where are Rain and Rodimus Prime? Hmm?"

Rusti ate what was on her fork before responding: "Counting faces, or bodies, Pissant?"

"Oh-ho! Very dry, my dear. _Very_ dry. Captain P. How much closer are we to Mechlatex?"

"Five days, Pissant. You know that." Parthon answered around a full mouth.

Pissant slimed his way into the bowl of fruit and Rusti pushed her plate away.

Dot snarled at the snail. "You should ask first, Pissant. No one wants to eat after you."

"Oh, I know. It's just that I enjoy the disgust and queasy expressions on your dull and vapid faces."

Rusti stood away from the table. "Had enough. I'm off for a walk. On second thought, Captain, where's that plate you made for my dad?" Her body abruptly catapulted into the air and her back slammed against the doorway. Rusti lost wind when she splat the floor face down. She recovered by breathing first then tucked her legs under and sat up, stunned. The universe narrowed a moment while she tried to clear her head. The room and everyone in it froze as Pissant crawled to the table ledge.

"Come on," he coaxed. "Come out and speak to me. I know you're in there somewhere, whoever you are."

Rusti stood on shaky legs and raised a set of bright blue eyes on the snail. "You disgusting, abhorrent _werm_."

"Name calling is ineffective. Who are you?"

"I am Mechlatex, sister-daughter of Driazadyn."

"Oh crap."

 _-_ _ **INCLINATION-**_

a metallic, alien world spread before Galvatron in crystal and light. Spires of minerals and foil rose from the ground like earthen twisting vines. Mountains of unknown substances curved over the landscape or refracted light in multi-faceted blocks and nooks much like coral beds. Those were the only features for which Galvatron had the vocabulary; his ability to describe the rest of the land failed. A feminine presence joined him. Her clothing radiated soft colors; her shapely form befitted the world; wordlessly beautiful.

"It has taken much time to make it just right." she searched his optics with a set of deep violet. "Do you like this? I hope you will call this home one day."

"All of this is for me? I have done nothing and _been_ nothing to deserve something so rich, so... astounding."

Her smile glowed. "It's not just for you, Galvatron. You, your people, the Autobots, the Automatrons and all those who have been scattered across the galaxy, searching for a home. It is not finished, I will admit. But in a short while, I will send for you."

Galvatron turned and set his hands on her shoulders. "Mechlatex?"

"Are you truly so surprised, Galvatron? I have been with you all through this journey. I have waited and waited. And soon you will come home to me." She laid a hand on his left cheek. "You are my son, now. You are all my children. No greater honor has been bestowed upon me than the gift of adoption." She embraced him and the cool touch, the warm scent comforted the Decepticon.

The Music came him again and he parted from her, optics searching the sky. "Is that your music, Mechlatex?"

"No, Galvatron. That is Music of the Chosen. Claim It, Galvatron. Claim It as It has claimed you; as I have claimed you. You will be home soon. I promise. Your job isn't finished. Be the leader you were meant to be, Galvatron. Finish your job and come home."

Galvatron woke with a deep breath, a foggy head and aching eyes. The stiff chair failed to keep him awake. He rolled his head left and popped a vertebrae. He rubbed one eye then the other. Cyclonus sat up in bed and stared. It took a second for Galvatron to register Cyclonus' conscious state. He jumped out the chair and forgot to draw another breath. "Cyclonus!" he croaked. "Cyclonus, you're awake!" Galvatron punched the intercom button for Bookworm's attention. "He's awake! He's awake!"

Galvatron reached back for his friend and planted hands on Cyclonus' shoulders. "Don't _ever_ scare me like that again! That's an order, Cyclonus!"

Cyclonus glared. "Sir, you've just laid hands on United States property! You will dispense with this charade and return me immediately to Stockville, Nebraska. No questions asked."

Cyclonus' usual quiet, gritty voice snarled with an accent Galvatron never heard before. He withdrew, baffled and wordless. He turned when Bookworm trotted into the room. The doctor snapped on blue gloves and activated a hand scanner.

The pretend-Cyclonus glared with disgust. _"Lieutenant Jackson Cyclonus. Serial number Bravo, Georgia, Zebra 8446-024. United States. All questions will not be answered except with an attorney present."_

Bookworm paused. "We're fresh out of lawyers. Now hold still."

Cyclonus recoiled. "Do not make me repeat myself!" he growled. "And get that thing out of my face!"

Bookworm glanced at his scanner. "What this? Well, how about this, then:" He zoomed his flat wide nose in the Decepticon's face and smiled. "Wanna repeat yourself now?" Bookworm zoomed out and turned away. "Never mind. I can annoy by other means." He paused and stabbed Galvatron with his eyes. "Why are you still here?"

Galvatron clammed his mouth shut and folded his arms. He stared at the alien. The alien doctor stared back. Stare. Stare. Stare. Stare.

" _I SAID I want a lawyer!"_

They turned to Cyclonus, one face crinkled with annoyance, the other with disbelief.

After Bookworm cleared him, they set Cyclonus in the kitchen and fed him. He ate with no sense of dignity and chewed noisily. "I'd ask for a beer," he said at one point, "but I suspect you don't have any."

Rusti hung back in a corner and watched the Primes and Galvatron watch Cyclonus. All three leaders stared as if expecting the lieutenant to suddenly change and say his behavior was a joke.

With a gulp of coffee, Cyclonus pointed at her with a short smile. "Who's the pretty lady there? You guys going to introduce me or will I have to make up a name for her?"

Rusti unfolded her arms and took a place at the table. "I might consider being your attorney, _Sir_ , if you answer their questions."

"Oh." Cyclonus pushed the plate away and wiped his mouth with a paper towel. "Well, I'll do about anything for a pretty face."

Rodimus took point here: "You said your name was Jackson Cyclonus and something about Stockville, Nebraska."

"At's right." Cyclonus picked his teeth and sat back. "The Bombshell PSX 427 is top secret United States property and you bozos had better return it and _me_ in one piece or there will be a not-so-nice little war. President Naghu is already pissed and I doubt he'll hesitate to push the big red button."

As amusing as she found the situation, Rusti did not smile. "You are not on Earth, Mr. Cyclonus."

"So you say. So, perhaps the German space station, then?"

"No."

"Aussie? There's been talk that Australia has been dabbling in space exploration."

"No," Rusti repeated.

"What then? You gonna stick with the 'alternate reality' story? Come on! My six year-old daughter can concoct a better story than that!"

Rusti smiled at that one. "No, she can't. You can't make this stuff up."

Rodimus, who still suffered from Magnus' prank, leaned back in his chair. He laced fingers behind his head as if bored stiff. "All bad jokes aside, how do we get our Cyclonus back? What about hypnotic suppression, for example? I've heard of stories where some poor soul is hypnotized and during the session, their alleged past life is revealed. Maybe the reverse is possible."

"Whoa, whoa there!" Captain Cyclonus held his hands out. "You're talking about submersing _me_ into this other guy's subconscious so that he's in control? Don't think so, Mac. I have a right to exist as much as he does." Jackson paused before adding one more thing: "Cosmic _oops_ notwithstanding. Which, by the way, is a drink, I'm still not taking."

Optimus frowned. "There has to be a way to undo the situation."

Galvatron, who remained silent until this moment glared at Prime. "I don't suppose we can look for a solution before returning to the Autobots."

Optimus sighed. "We're going to do everything we can, Galvatron."

Jackson scoffed. "Well, that's fantastic. You people don't even consider how _I_ might feel about this. You just want your buddy back."

Rodimus quietly laughed. "You want to take his place, Captain? Cuz I'm sure Galvatron is more than happy to hug you all over again."

"That's not funny," Galvatron objected.

Jackson glared hotly at Rodimus. "NO, I don't want to take this bozo's place! I want to go back to MY time, MY world, MY family!"

Jackson said something more but Rusti ignored him in favor of Optimus' attention. She took his hand and when he looked, she mouthed an I-love-you. The smile in his eyes made her heart flutter. Then Jackson abruptly stood, finished his coffee and slammed the cup on the table. "Had enough of you jerks. I'm outta here."

Rodimus smirked. "Do you even know where you're going, Captain?"

"I'll figure it out."

And out he went, leaving the Primes, Galvatron and Rusti to sit in the now-quiet. The silence grew uncomfortable until Galvatron spoke.

"That damned self-serving snail did this. I don't understand why he can't undo it."

Rusti: "What if he just turned Cyclonus back into his robotic form? Wouldn't that undo the process?"

"It's got nothing to do with his body, Lady-Friend," Rodimus replied. "Pissant said the souls were merged. Kinda like oil and water."

"There is an answer out there," Optimus insisted. "We just have to find it."

Galvatron volleyed his eyes from one Prime to the other. "Do you think we can remain on Mechlatex long enough to search for an answer?"

Rodimus searched the ceiling and scowled. "That could take anywhere from days to weeks. And we don't know that culture's level of technology."

Optimus glanced from him to Galvatron to Rusti. "Whatever we do on Mechlatex, we have to be very, very cautious. We do not want to be noticed by Psyklenox. And Rusti, I would feel better if you stayed with the ship."

"It's a meet-and-rescue mission, isn't it?" she returned. "How about this: how about Galvatron and I go on the information scavenger hunt while you guys look for the Automatron? I mean, how much trouble can we get into sitting in a library?"

Rodimus protruded his lower lip. "Sounds ideal to me. And maybe that sweet old lady will help out."

73


	5. Chapter 5

DSR CH 14.5 INCLINATION

 **Author's Note** : It saddens me that I've had to narrate so much of this story. But for the sake of time, the story must be finished. Also, 'tu' means 'affirmative' or 'positive'. Onward!–T.L. Arens

TRANS-SPATIAL INCLINATION

V

Rusti ventured the dreadful walk toward Daniel's prison. Trepidation fluttered about her stomach like a collection of spiked balls. No matter how she felt, she pressed forward, applying determination to conquer fear. The warm plate on her hand consisted only of finger foods and a napkin. Captain Parthon knew better than to arm someone like her father with so much as a spoon.

Storage Bay 2 echoed the quiet. At its center, Daniel's cage expanded 10x10 complete with a plywood section wherein sat a small bed and most likely a toilet.

Rusti's boots softly thudded against the metal flooring. She crouched and slid the plate through the slot. Then noticed a link in the chainlink fencing hung separate from its neighbor. Rounding the right corner for a closer exam, Rusti found a line of disconnected links, like a tear in a shirt.

A THWAK smashed her head. She stumbled forward. A pair of metal hands yanked her up and held her fast.

A handmade two-prong knife moved into her eyesight so that she saw a reflection of her own iris.

Daniel's voice echoed calm like a snake constricting its prey. "I will personally thank Ultra Magnus for leaving this for me last night. I suppose he was preoccupied, speaking with the ship engineer who argued about calculation for the Mozart. Hm?"

She froze.

"What's that? Nothing to say, Resonna?" He squeezed tighter.

"I need to get back," she finally answered. She was surprised by her own calm voice.

"That's it? Nothing like "I missed you, Daddy?" he did not wait for a reply. "That's fine. You and I will walk out and have a nice _long_ conversation with the Primes."

Pain scraped the right side of her neck. She hissed inward and involuntarily bucked.

"Mmmm..." Daniel moaned. "A little death now, a little death later. A little death thereafter." he paused. "I'll bet you think I've lost my mind."

Rusti stared at the metal encasing his left arm. What if...? she concentrated on it. Daniel cut her again along the right jaw line. Rusti grit her teeth and traced an underlying power conduit from his thumb to elbow. It clicked off at her command.

Daniel's left arm dropped. She spun out of his clutches.

He stared at his arm, dumbfounded. "What the hell?" Rusti backed away, inching toward the entrance. Daniel's eyes caught her like a cat spotting movement. "Oh no you don't!" He leapt, reaching for her with an outstretched hand.

"No!" Rusti held out a palm and Witwicky froze in movement, suspended in the air like a cartoon character. Her fear gave way to wonder. She tested the moment by ordering Daniel's right foot to wiggle.

His face turned white with astonishment when his foot moved without permission. "What the hell?" he screamed. "What the hell did you do to me?!"

Instead of answering, Rusti played with Daniel's exosuit like a puppet. He shouted and squawked. He threatened and screamed then begged. At first his body clunked about like a clumsy outfit made of Legos as Rusti improved her control. With every movement his body involuntarily pranced around the storage hanger. He jumped into the air and hung, suspended before lighting upon the floor on one foot. He stayed there then slowly rotated like a music box ballerina.

He twirled slowly while Rusti approached. She peered into his face; an artist evaluating her work. "Will you get that?" she asked herself. "If only I knew I could do this when I was nine, things would have been completely different."

"Lemme down!" he whimpered and whined. "Lemme go. Please?" Witwicky openly blubbered.

"Now why would I do that?" Rusti asked honestly. "The minute I let you go, you'll try to kill me again." She watched him bawl as he rotated helplessly on his toes. "You don't like feeling helpless, do you, Dad? You can't take being picked on. You dish out torment and grief. You relish in other people's misery. But when the moment catches up with you, you turn into a sobbing pollywog. You are a sorry excuse for a human being." she let him drop like a piece of junk. "Go back to your cage. If you try to leave, or cause any mischief, I will know. The Infraction will tell me." Anger slowly kindled with her and Rusti left before she did something stupid. She closed the door, leaned against and drew several deep breaths. If she could do that, control Daniel's exosuit, what else was she capable of?

 **DINNER**

Rain plopped into a chair beside Galvatron. He clamped his jaws around a large toasted sandwich and closed his eyes, delighted. He stopped chewing when Rain set Roddi's reassembled 'Albert' on the table. Chewing slowly, the Decepticon sent her and eyeball of perplexion.

"Bait," she answered the unspoken question. "Your friend, Optimus, said that Rodimus is brooding. So I thought I'd see if this meant anything to him."

Magnus, whose head moved along the diagrams and floor plans of his Mozart, actually joined the conversation. "He might torture you for crossing the threshold of his quarters."

Galvatron washed his sandwich down with an iced drink. "Your fascination with Rodimus Prime is adorable, Rain. But Rodimus is not relationship material."

She shrugged. "Who said anything about a relationship? I've already beaten him twice in a boxing spar he tried to teach me."

Magnus took for himself a glass of milk and poured hot sauce into it. "Maybe he thinks you're cute. Galvatron isn't always correct." Magnus drank half the glass as Galvatron grinned.

"Maybe not," the Decepticon admitted. He took another bite of sandwich. "But I'm funny."

Magnus almost drank more milk but the incredulity of Galvatron's comment forced his face to cringe. "You are not funny," he said as Rodimus entered. "There is nothing funny about you." He watched Prime take a seat at the table's end. "Rodimus, tell Baldy here he's not funny."

"What?" Rodimus huffed. "Mentally or physically?"

"Both," the two mechs chorused.

"He's funny," Prime said as he nabbed a bread roll, "... _looking,_ " he added.

Milk flooded from Magnus' mouth and he rushed for a napkin.

Knowing defeat when faced with it, Galvatron shook his head and finished his sandwich.

Rodimus helped himself to another roll as Optimus and Rusti entered. "Rain," Roddi cooed, "Why did you abduct Albert?"

Optimus piled good things on his plate and Rodimus took them off and put them on his plate. Once both plates were full, Rodimus traded plates.

Optimus looked annoyed. "Will you be going to Mechlatex with us, Rodimus?"

"No."

"No?"

Rodimus ate a mouthful. "No. You got lots of other people." he swallowed. "You don't need me."

"Don't say that." Optimus' tone was grave enough that Rodimus froze and looked apologetic.

Rodimus tried another excuse: "Someone needs to stay with the ship and keep an optic on Daniel and... um, Jackson. Isn't that what we should call him?" He aimed the last question at Galvatron who looked displeased. Rodimus knew the attitude was not aimed at him.

Galvatron added salt to a pile of rice. "Maybe we should try an exorcism."

Rusti forked her meat. "We are going to a library. You might find one there."

"Not funny," Galvatron snarled.

"Sorry."

Magnus added hot sauced to each piece of meat before he stabbed it. "Are we transporting to the surface? I'm not fond of the transporter-thing."

Rodimus and Rusti: "Neither am I."

Rain poked a finger at Albert. "We'll probably land outside a rural area and pick up a transport. Dot will make arrangements."

Rusti pushed her empty plate away and dabbed her mouth with a napkin. "Do we need to buy clothing? What do they wear on Mechlatex? What's the name of the city?"

The left corner of Rain's lips lifted in a smile "L-L-Lakromycix, I believe. It's the largest city. Dot's been there a few times. I was there with the captain once. Plucky knows it better than anybody. He used to work there. But we won't go there directly. We have to get 'travel credits' so that no one's suspicious of our presence. As for what they wear: it's not jeans or fatigues. And we'll have to do something about your hair if you're going, Rusti. They might mistake you as an alien. We'll have to find sun visors for the rest of you. Ronduvians all wear visors because they live and work in the southern tunnel systems; burial ground and edible mushrooms. Sunlight hurts their eyes."

Rodimus smirked. "Can't wait to see you in sunglasses, Op. Oh to have a camera!"

"How long will we be there?" Rusti asked.

"I don't know," their shipmate replied. "Depends on how long it will take to locate Ryumee."

Rodimus burped. "Ryumee?" he repeated. "The Automatron?"

"Tu." Rain stared at him until Roddi made a face.

"What?" he asked.

"Just wondering whether or not they can do this without getting into trouble.

 **-INCLINATION-**

DEAR BOOK.

TOMORROW IS THE BIG DAY. TEN OF US ARE HEADING INTO ENEMY TERRITORY TO RETRIEVE A DISSIDENT. ACTUALLY, NOT ALL TEN OF US WILL BE ON THAT HUNT. I'LL BE SAFELY STASHED IN A LIBRARY, SEARCHING FOR A WAY TO KICK JACKSON OUT OF CYCLONUS.

SOUNDS PERVE, DOESN'T IT?

RODIMUS + RAIN FOREVER.

THEY DENY IT, OF COURSE. IT'S SO OBVIOUS, IT'S DISGUSTING. AND OPTIMUS AND RUSTI FILL EVERY PLACE WITH KISSES AND HAND HOLDING.

I SHOULD ASK THEM TO HOLD MY HANDS, TOO.

AND JACKSON. HE'S UNREFINED, TEMPERAMENTAL AND HARASSES THE WOMEN. AND IN CASE YOU'RE WONDERING, YES, I PUNCHED HIM.

IN MY DEFENSE, IT HAPPENED AFTER I TOOK TURN TO FEED DANIEL.

Galvatron's door buzzed. He closed the journal. "Enter."

Rodimus opened the door but remained at the threshold. "Can we talk?"

"Is this about my fart chart?"

"No."

"Yes, we can talk."

Rodimus stepped in and sat at the edge of the bed. Galvatron stood from the chair, twirled it and sat in it backward. He eyed Rodimus with the critical eye of a veteran teacher.

"Rodimus, you look like someone crushed your pet fish."

"Magnus had the pet fish. I have Albert." Roddi's serious mind set kept him from smiling at Galvatron's eye roll. "Listen, Galvatron, this is gonna sound weird, but I was with Plucky at the space mall when he met up with this guy who gave him news about Psyklenex." He paused, grateful Galvatron gave his full attention. "Do you know anything about him?"

"Have you spoken with Prime about it?"

"'Bout what? Talking to strangers? Meh. He's having a difficult time concentrating." Roddi held up a hand when Galvatron blinked a stern look. "Don't worry. I'll talk with him sooner than later. I am, however, curious if you knew Psyklenex owned a power device that can instill life like the Matrix. Ever hear of the Oracle of Creation?

Galvatron dropped eye contact and searched his memory. "With all the fun and excitement we've had, I never stopped to think about Psyklenox. I know he was a First. As I recall, Mechlatex was an uninhabited world-wait!" The Decepticon met Roddi's eyes again. "It _has been a long, long_ time, Rodimus. I don't even think your alternate counterpart knew of him.

"Yeah, I gathered that, thanks." Rodimus hated to think about Hot Rod and the young Prime's fate.

Galvatron continued, drawing from ancient memories. "Cybertron roamed into this star system. Of course, the events around Psyklenox occurred between constant civil unrest on Cybertron and the ever-changing government structures. But as I recall, Mechlatex was initially a penial coloney until someone discovered a metal that naturally grew on the planet. Eh..." Galvatron's eyes panned as he struggled to resurrect memories old as fables: "Xorthium."

"Xorthium?" Rodimus echoed. "That's only a myth."

"Oh no." Galvatron shook his head with a smile. "No, no. it exists but it's not found in every star system. Not every... now that I think on it, too, Roddi, Psyklenox was discovered by accident."

"Psyklenox was found on Mechlatex?"

"Heh. No." Galvatron realized he enjoyed this Q and A session. "See, it's always been believed Cybertron wandered aimlessly through space. And that was true at one time. But at some point, the planet was caught in a gravitational orbit f dark energy. Every 240,000,000 years, Cybertron revisited Mechlatex's solar system. So naturally, the Quintessons know."

Galvatron blinked back flashes of long forgotten wars, of discoveries, deaths and bad deals. "They found Psyklenox in space. How here's where the story takes a turn into the 'Outer Limits.' They found Psyklenox tethered to the sun, chained in an orbit designed to last for megania."

Rodimus sat straighter as his eyes widened. "How the hell-"

"Exactly," Galvatron agreed. "He was alive and fully functional." He let that sink into Rodimus' thick head a moment. "Now you say he has a device in his possession? What is it, exactly?"

"Don't know," Roddi replied with a shrug. "What I do know is that this guy is over-clocked and has been building a sizable army. The thing-a-majig gives him news from other places and things and history. History of what, I don't know. That's why I thought I'd come and tap your top.

Galvatron shook his head. "Could be some sort of multi-dimensional crystal. Otherwise, I have no clue."

Rodimus nodded more to himself. He stood and slipped hands into his pockets. "You'll keep an optic on Rusti, right? I won't have to plan your demise if something goes sideways?"

"We're going to be in a _library_ , Rodimus. Unless the books, crystals or plastic devices fly off shelves and attack, I doubt there will be very little excitement."

A watery smile touched Roddi's lips then faded. "I'd feel better if you could transform into a cannon."

"Well, if it makes you feel better, I will be armed."

Rodimus gave an exaggerated nod. "I'd feel better if we did not have to do this at all."

"So would I."

 **-INCLINATION-**

" _Not one person on Mechlatex has red curly hair. One look at you and they'll know you're an alien."_

Rusti sat before a mirror in the room she now shared with Optimus. She tugged a bath towel off her head and revealed locks of long straight brown hair. She carefully combed through the knots and stared at the stranger reflected in the mirror.

She turned to Optimus who sat on the bed watching. "Well, how do you like it?"

"I don't." Optimus returned honestly. "It's not you."

Rusti batted her eyes. "Not sure how to take that one, Optimus."

She looked like a whole different person with wet brown hair. Optimus' heart sank. "I want to spend more time with you, Rusti. I want to spend every nanosecond, every astrosecond, every galactic year with you." he paused, lost in her soft grey eyes. "You mean everything to me. And were the situation different, I'd let someone else handle it; handle everything and you and I would go on a Sunday driver. Even when it's Wednesday."

Rusti's warm smile melted. She covered her face and wept.

"Oh no," Optimus said sadly. He picked up her silky robe, draped it over her shoulders then knelt before his extra-species wife. "I did not mean to make you cry, Rusti."

She cupped his face between her hands. "I have you now. Right here. I can old you and love you and _love_ you. I have all this, the opportunity undreamed and I cannot have your child!" she sobbed and used three, four, five tissues before retaining her composure. "I, I'll never forgive the Quintessons!"

"Rusti," he said softly, "Rusti, remember what I once told you?"

She batted her eyes. "No."

"I once told you only Autobot leaders can have offspring."

"Optimus, you are _humanoid._ I am human..." her shoulders dropped when the truth sank in. "I guess our DNA difference would not make a difference."

He kissed her hands. "Will you be all right?"

She nodded, now calm. "Yes. I should be grateful for what I have right now."

"That's my girl. Meanwhile, I must find a way to get your red curly hair back. He stood, still holding her hand. "Come sit with me so I can count your freckles. It'll make me feel better."

She stood. "I have a better idea, Optimus Prime." Rusti disrobed. "I'm going to tuck you into bed."

 _A dark snake squirmed and bucked inside his chest. For a while it lay quiet and sedated. But now it stirred as if awoken by a distant voice._

" _Be still," Optimus told it._

 _It thrashed as if screaming with its body. Eventually, however, the snake wore itself still. Optimus felt its heart beat wildly. What disturbed that Dark Thing? What power called It so that Darkness tried to break Its prison?_

 _Its heart beat with a reverse rhythm_. _THUMP-THUMP. THUMP. THUMP-THUMP. THUMP. The sound turned Optimus into a wooden doll. Paralyzed, he stared forward in fear as Rusti's blood gathered about his feet._

 _RELEASE TO FREE_

 _Optimus stared, unmoving. Internally he refused the demand. The Darkness attached Rusti's peeled skin and hair to its own body; a gruesome mockery of the essence of purity and love._

 _FREE THIS._

 _No._

 _The snake shook off its ghastly costume. Its long tail whipped through the air, its head arched back. The thing moaned, frustrated and irate._

 _VOID. GONE. DESOLATE. ABSENT. YOU. THIS. NOW._

 _Optimus willed himself to move and he pointed a stiff finger at the abomination. "You have no power. Be silent."_

 _A bitter memory surfaced. But it was a lifetime ago, wasn't it? Wasn't it? Yes, but listen. That was a memory condemned to the obliteration of Bare A-_

 _NO! No, don't say it! Don't THINK it!_

 _Bare-_

 _NO!_

 _Ankles._

 _Yes, okay. Bare A-_

 _But that's not right; it's incorrect. No matter how the truth is dressed up or painted over, it's still the truth._

 _Bury it._

 _Negative. It resurfaces like a dent covered by cheap filler._

 _Renounce it. Stop believing in it._

 _That changes nothing. One cannot change the truth by denial._

 _You were It._

 _Optimus wept. "I was It. I was the Virus. I watched them in the control center. I hung upside down; an alien spider, silent and unseen and I remember eating Sunstreaker and I remember smelling the Quintesson. I want to eat-"_

 _I was It. I was-_

Much like the last nightmare, Optimus shot up from bed and jumped out as if to run from himself. He found the wall. He found the door.

"Optimus?"

There. Go _there, to her._

The panic reduced one level at a time. He sat at the edge of the bed. She slipped from her side as he slid to the floor and stared into emptiness.

Rusti knelt beside him, anxious. "What? What did this?" she asked, kindly wiping his tears.

He gave no immediate answer nor did he meet her eyes. "I think... I think I will have my memory purged. I think I'll have First Aid rip everything out. That will be..." then he met her worried gaze. "If I should ever become something _wrong_..."

Rusti sat completely down and held his hands between hers. "You know I'll let nothing like that happen."

Prime considered what she said and shook his head. "No. No, Little Bell. I don't want you to share those memories. I know what _that_ place did to you. Only one of us is upset and let's keep it that way."

She smiled. "Optimus that's sweet and had I been twelve or sixteen, I likely would have agreed and allowed you to suffer alone. But I have survived. We both survived and I can hold you. I can _finally_ hold you so let me take that horror and chase it away. Let me be your strength."

He picked up locks of her straightened hair. "I miss the curls, Rusti."

She pressed his hand to her cheek then kissed it. "You are a master of subject change, Optimus. Tell me what spooked you."

"At the science station," he said to avoid the name 'Bare Anches'. "I became the Darkness. I became the Virus. It was only a moment. It was... comfortable." he broke, weeping and turned into himself. "I was already dead, Rusti! I was no longer myself! I was not me!"

She embraced Optimus Prime and held him as he poured months of inner turmoil into tears.

Once Prime settled down, Rusti helped him dress and led him to the kitchen. She bade him to take a seat. "Neither you nor I will sleep. So I'll make us some breakfast." He smiled wanly and Rusti hoped a few carbohydrates might make him feel better.

She snooped and puttered through Bookworm's territory until she found a piece of 19th century American treasure: a waffle iron. She gasped and hugged the appliance.

"Miracles are so fabulous!":" she said aloud.

Optimus quietly laughed.

Rusti opened the refrigerator and her eyes lay hold of a large cannister of coffee. With a welcoming smile, she plotted to brew enough for the two of them. She paused at the second scoop of grounds. Rusti peered at Optimus suspiciously.

"Optimus," she called, "do you recall that shower we had day before yesterday?

"When you let me wash your hair?"

"Yeah. Was that before or after breakfast?"

"After."

"Really? And that morning before when you chased me around the AV room? Um, was that before or after breakfast?"

He looked so clueless, so innocent just then. "After," he answered. "Remember? Magnus spilt his milk."

"Right." she added events and circumstances and smiled. I'm going to make you an _espresso_."

"What?"

Rodimus' voice filled the momentary silence. "I _knew_ you two were up to something." he took Captain Parthon's chair and slouched back, arms folded.

"Hello, Rodimus." Prime greeted.

Roddi frowned. "Hello, Optimus. Suffering from a loaded conscious lately?"

"No."

Rusti called from the kitchen: "Roddi, you hungry?"

"Yeah. I guess I am. For _revenge_." he muttered.

"Hm?" Optimus blinked at him.

Roddi fixed his eyes on Prime, counted five seconds then leaned forward. "Open season for pranking, Optimus? Seriously, you went to extremes this time."

Optimus tilted his head left then slightly forward. "What the devil are you talking about?"

Rusti entered from the kitchen and set two espressos down, kindly giving Rodimus hers.

Rodimus stood and shucked off his jacket and shirt. "I'm talking about THIS!"

Optimus and Rusti gaped at the canvass of Roddi's upper body. Angry welts lay between lines of down feathers held fast to his chest, neck and arms. "It's NOT funny."

"No, it's not," Prime agreed. "It looks like it hurts."

"Every time I-" Rodimus froze. "You're not laughing."

"Were we supposed to laugh?"

Roddi's bright eyes narrowed. "If you pulled this pranks, you'd be laughing. Even when you're not laughing, Prime, I know when you're laughing."

Optimus characteristically laced his fingers on the table. "Then logically, Roddi, the culprit is someone else."

Rodimus snorted and drained his coffee in three gulps. "I'll give you culprit. Just you wait. This is NOT going unanswered." He grabbed Optimus' espresso and downed it, too. "I will find, flog and _fry_. He paused. "Great power coffee, by the way. I'm gone."

Rodimus stomped out, a hunter on the highway to revenge. Rusti returned to the kitchen the reentered the dining room. She held a fresh cup of coffee in one hand, a plate in the other.

"I only made enough coffee for three," she said. "We'll have to share."

Optimus smiled warmly. "I'm more than happy to share with you, Rusti."

She returned the warmth and set a plate of waffles between them. "This is a bad-dream breakfast, Optimus. Aunt Missy made this for me on occasion.

Rusti fed him waffles between jokes and kisses and they were very good.

 **DEAR BOOK**

WE HONESTLY WERE SUPPOSED TO LEAVE FOR MECHLATEX. BUT RODIMUS CHOSE TO UNLEASH HIS FURY. HE PLASTERED ME TO A WALL AND POURED SYRUP ON ME. TO GET ME TO TALK. AT FIRST I RESISTED. BUT STICKY SOAKED ME IN PLACES IT DOESN'T BELONG. I HAD TO PEEL MY CLOTHES OFF LIKE A FRUIT.

IT WAS RODIMUS' HORRIBLE JOKES THAT MADE ME BEG FOR MERCY. BUT THE PUNS. OH PRIMUS, ROASTED AND TOASTED! THE PUNS WERE THE WORST! SO I GAVE MAGNUS UP BECAUSE HE'S NOT WORTH THE DEATH OF MY SANITY.

FOUR HOURS IN THE SHOWER DID FUNNY THINGS TO MY SKIN AND I HAD TO ASK RUSTI ABOUT IT. SHE LOOKED AT ME FUNNY WHEN I APPROACHED HER IN A BATH TOWEL. I'M GUESSING SHE DIDN'T LIKE THE COLOR OF THE TOWEL.

The last line was met with several chuckles around the breakfast table. Magnus drank a dose of hot sauce milk before turning the page.

JACKSON IS A DICK. HIS ACCENT IS ANNOYING. HE STARES AT ME AS IF I WERE ALIEN AND HE DRESSES WEIRDLY. DON'T MAKE ME GO INTO HIS EATING HABITS. HE NIBBLES LIKE A RABBIT OR CHOMPS LIKE A TRASH COMPACTOR. NO FINESSE.

RODIMUS + MAGNUS FOREVER

YOU'D THINK THEY HATE EACH OTHER.

MAGNUS HAS A DEBT TO PAY AND I'M FRESH OUT OF CASH.

I MISS CYCLONUS. HE'S THE ONLY MATURE ONE AMONG US.

Magnus set the diary down and took his seat. A round of applause followed until Rodimus stepped in.

"I'm starving," he declared. "What's for food?"

Magnus pointed to an array of dishes on the table. "Help yourself, Rodimus. Pissant made a good meal."

Roddi gazed from the food to the nail who slurped up a juicy, squishy fruit. "Never mind," he muttered.

Magnus and Plucky laughed. "Just kidding," Magnus declared.

Dot drank her coffee and bit her toast. "Read us another one, Ultra Magnus," she urged. "Before that big boy finds his way to the table."

Plucky and Pitstop agreed, egging him on.

Magnus cleared his throat and lifted the book but Rodimus interfered: "what are you reading, Mags?"

"Galvatron's diary. You should hear what he's had to say about you."

Rodimus scoffed. "Not likely."

Magnus flipped several pages. "You'll see."

...AND THEN THERE'S RODIMUS PRIME; A BAD COMEDIAN'S LAST HOPE FOR A GOOD LAUGH. I'D EXCUSE HIS SORDID LACK OF ORIGINALITY WERE HE NOT A PRIME.

A few sniggers followed the last line. Rodimus bore holes into Magnus' head with his eyes.

RODIMUS IS NOTHING IF NOT COLORFUL. HE IS LOUD, OBNOXIOUS, OSTENTATIOUS AND FRANTIC LIKE A HUMAN TODDLER DANCING AROUND, SCREAMING AND RUSHING FROM ROOM TO ROOM ON A CAFFEINE HIGH.

The room filled with contagious laughter. In spite of himself, Roddi folded his arms and smiled. Yup, he was _so_ going to kill Ultra Magnus.

 **-INCLINATION-**

Galvatron flew through the air and landed on his shoulder blades. The gym mats cushioned his fall and he sprang up, ready for another hand-to-hand with Rain. She was the toughest humanoid he met as to date. She did not _look_ tough, however. She reminded Galvatron of female bikers; chics not to be underestimated.

"Excellent move," he praised. "Come. Teach me."

"Slow motion," she ordered. "Step in. Hips up into the solar plexis. Roll over the back. Knees bent and heave."

Galvatron flew again, landed on his shoulder blades and laughed. "This is like having a birthday party!"

Rain's face turned puzzled. "Non sequitur, Galvatron."

"Perhaps," he agreed. Galvatron stood and brushed dust off his gym clothes. "But that's how I feel."

The strangled sound of a dying ox bellowed down the hall. The two wrestlers ran out the room. Left? Right?

" **R-R-R-R-RODDIMMMMUUUSS!"**

Right.

Rain jumped to rush to Magnus' rescue but Galvatgron held her by the wrist. "Careful. Never undo a Prime's work in progress."

"What?"

Galvatron smiled and nodded toward Magnus. "Stay casual." he led the shorter girl on a stroll until they approached Ultra Magnus who hung upside down, swinging side to side.

Magnus looked like he could cook an egg on his face. "GIMME THE HELL OUT OF HERE!"

"Oh, _hi_ , Magnus!" Galvatron cheerfully greeted. "Looks like you're testing the ceiling with your weight."

"Galvatron, you're still not funny."

A hyper-cheerful whistle sang from round the corner. A large trash bin wheeled toward them and stopped just under Magnus.

Rain folded her arms. "Rodimus," she called. "What are you up to?"

Roddi peered from behind the oversized bin, looking as innocent as he was not. "Me? Up to something?"

Galvatron: "Are you going to can Ultra Magnus, Rodimus? What recipe are you following?"

"Recipe?" Roddi repeated. "Uhh, _pickled Magnus roots_ , of course."

"No Magnus jam?"

Rain could not believe the two. "Guys," she warned. "Torture is not funny."

Rodimus ignored her: "I suppose jam is sweeter than pickling. Magnus jerky, extra spicy, maybe?"

Galvatron raised the bar: "Magnus burger with Ultra fries on the side."

"I'M GOING TO KILL THE BOTH OF YOU!"

Rodimus patted the trash can. "Don't worry, Big Guy. I won't hurt you... at least, not for real."

Galvatron looked skeptical. "What's in the trash bin, Rodimus?"

"Glad you asked Mighty-G! I thought to myself, if I were to pay Mags back for the sticky, bygones needed to be bygones. SO! I thought I could douse him in quicksand. But that's a temp solution. Then I thought I could cover him with spiders. But that's cruel and inhumane. The spiders would die of fright. SO! I came up with the _ultimate of ultimate_ tortures: Earworms. And I have _plenty_ of them. You two should not stay here. Earworms are dangerous and could induce insanity."

Galvatron shook his head. "He'll never forgive you for this, Rodimus." He smirked when Roddi shot a shit-eating grin at him.

Rain groaned, took Galvatron by the hand and led him away. They turned down the adjoining hall when a recording of Rodimus' rendition of "It's a Small World" started to play.

Magnus bellowed.

 **-INCLINATION-**

Pissant read from a check-off list while the away team double-checked their clothing, gear and wallet at the Infraction's 'front door.' Parthon, Plucky and Dot helped the Autobots and Galvatron double-check their communicators, watches and emergency gadgets.

"Don't forget," the snail warned, "you're from Rondus. Don't get snotty with the military police. They have no sense of humor. Don't ask more than one or two questions. These people might have the brains of a paramecium but they are suspicious. If you get arrested, don't resist; _I_ will handle it."

"Good Lord, Pissant," Dot snapped as Rain helped her pack a small bag. "Did you pack us picnic baskets, too?"

The snail smiled wickedly. "Do you _want_ me to?"

"Don't answer that!" Rain told the old lady. "Alright, everyone," she added, "out you go. We'll monitor from here."

Optimus waited for everyone else to disembark first. He gave Rain a slightly concerned expression. "I thought you'd be coming with us."

"I'm the security office, Optimus Prime. If nasty things come your way, Pittstop and I will have to keep the Infraction prepared for emergency extraction. What happened on the Cygnus will not happen again. Especially here. Please be careful. Don't lose contact with anyone."

"Keep an optic on Rodimus for me, will you, Rain? I'm very worried for him."

She gave him a broad, happy smile. "Don't be. I'll take good care of him."

Optimus nodded this thanks, took Rusti's hand and left the ship.

Just as Rain predicted, Dot called for a transport. The drawback: a three-mile walk. Optimus was surprised Parthon, who did not feel well, insisted on taking the journey.

"I never feel good," the captain answered. "I feel bad or I feel worse or I feel like something stepped on me."

"Do you have cancer, Captain Parthon?"

"So to speak," Parthon replied quietly. "I have a rare disease that will eventually calcify my body."

Rusti softly gasped. "You're turning to stone?"

"Put simply, yes."

The party crossed a bridge overlooking a a ravine so deep, they could not see the bottom. Cloudstreaker peered over the rail and measured the distance with her eyes.

"Captain," the femme called politely, "I thought this planet was controlled by a dictator."

"So it is."

"How is it that we landed without security clearance or ordered to land at a regular space port?"

Pipsqueak answered that one: "Nobody _wants_ to come to Mechlatex. It's not open-business for tourism."

Cloudstreaker caught up with the group and adjusted her jacket. "You mean there's no motels?"

"Nnno," Parthon drawled. "Usually people come here and never leave."

Rusti froze and Ultra Magnus rounded her, softly humming. "Wait, you brought us here-"

Pipsqueak winked at her. "Don'tchya worry, Missy. We always keep an escape route tucked into our pockets."

"Exactly," Parthon agreed, "just like she said."

The group tracked a path over a long slope and gathered at the base. A glass stall with a lonely metal bench stood nearby a sign indicating a transport stop.

Parthon and Dot sat down while Magnus leaned against the sign post, arms folded over his chest. His visor reflected the ocean-blue sky above them.

"Prime," he said, "there is something inherently strange about this place."

"I feel it, also," Galvatron concurred.

Cloudstreaker gasped and bent to pick up a glowing rock. "Look at this!"

"NO!" Parthon about jumped out his shoes. "Don't touch it!" All Autobot eyes turned to him with questions. "It's in mid-transition," he explained. "Keep watching."

They did and waited, staring intently. The glowing stone vibrated and pulsed until it popped, sprouted up and branched out. Rusti and Cloudstreaker startled and then gasped when one branched bulged and split apart, revealing an array of dazzling blue crystal flakes.

Parthon grunted with mild amusement. "That's happening everywhere. It's not just crystalizing, though, if you look by that tree behind us, you'll see a shrub with metal leaves."

Rusti grinned, her eyes enlarged with delight. "That is so unbelievably cool!"

"The natives don't think so," Parthon added. "Their world is changing and they don't think they'll survive it. Psyklenox has built giant walls along what's left of the organic planet in hopes of slowing the process. Can't stop nature, however. And here comes our ride. Plucky, you're up!"

The transport, a five-compartment train, hovered three feet off the ground and made almost no noise. The double-doors opened and a set of floating steps welcomed passengers. Plucky ascended first. He produced a glass card and slipped it into a slot on the immediate right.

The pilot, an obese female with a bored expression, darted her eyes from Plucky to a readout on her dashboard. "Party of ten?"

"Aye-tu," Plucky replied. "With General Parthon. Retired."

"Who's Dot?"

"Right here, Sunshine," the old lady stepped up next and handed the pilot her own glass card. "Fresh from Rondues to your transport. We're all with the General."

"T'uk. That's what your card says. Does everyone have an ID? I don't take non-people on my transport." the pilot peered around Dot and Plucky and counted the number of customers.

"Yadda-nad," Plucky assured her. "That there's General Parthon. He's the one off and about. Me and the old tune here-"

"Watch it," Dot growled.

"-we're his escorts."

The female with leathery skin and deep eyes weighed her decision then reached to her left and flipped a green switch. "Just show me your ID's. Don't have time to process everything."

Rusti took a window seat. The car, though worn, was clean, polished and painted. The interior smelled of sun-worn rubber and furniture polish. The seats offered some layer of comfort, even if they were not meant for someone with a wide backside.

Optimus sat beside her and took her hand. They kissed, kissed and kissed again.

Galvatron intervened: "Next time you birds hold hands, will you hold mine, too?"

Rusti laughed and leaned over to look at him. "Sorry, Galvatron. I don't think I'm willing to share Optimus with anybody."

The transport took off and stopped twice more. With no other passengers, the train sped onward along the length of the countryside.

At first the landscape stretched with long empty fields except for a tree there or a distant mesa. Then the first spire appeared over the horizon followed by another and another. They rose forty, sixty, even a hundred feet high. At the base of each spire lay a mass of wire-like vines. The spires stood tall and twisted like a screw, tapered at the top. Neither leaf nor thorn sprouted from their rainbow-tinted surface.

The transport paused at a small town. People with glittering skin stepped in. The pilot greeted each with the same bored expression and spoke with harsh consonants and grunts. She shouted at one male who shouted back and waved his arms in vulgar gestures.

The obese lady, however, took no guff. She stood from her chair. _"Taoug wu to duve stornov!_ " she bellowed.

The recalcitrant male gave her another vulgar hand sign and exited the transport through a side door. The other passengers silently found their seats and kept their eyes on themselves.

The transport rolled again, crawling through the town. Rusti saw buildings made of metal sheeting, mud, grass and rock. None of the buildings used doors; everything stood with three walls and a hangover or awning. Every few yards sat either a military vehicle or two or more armed guards.

Where were the people?

Just as the transport picked up speed, it came to a stop outside the town. The pilot opened the front door and two military police officers boarded. They passed one person after another until they encountered Ultra Magnus.

" _Spotzu eb tol?"_

Magnus looked up. "What?"

" _Spotzu. En. Tol."_ the first officer repeated.

The pilot said something and the second MP scoffed. "From the Rondues, eh? How much mud did you eat today?" Both MPs laughed. Magnus said nothing and they retreated.

Rusti released her held breath. Magnus' height garnered more attention than they needed. The transport rolled again. The landscape turned dirty with trash separated into great heaps. At one point the transport passed over a lake so polluted, its black water failed to contain the dross. The worst sight: bodies lying amid the filth, bloated and abandoned.

Rusti covered her mouth and looked away, sickened.

Three miles past the sewage lake, the transport approached a large city. Pipsqueak and Parthon silently notified their shipmates they stopped here.

The pilot eased into a large station where three other transports waited as workers checked the cars inside and out. Upon applying the brakes, the female pilot flipped a switch and a white light blinked on. She used three languages before speaking the language familiar to the Infraction's crew.

"Remain in your seats. Await inspection. Anyone who leaves their seat will be reported by the staff to the authorities."

A claustrophobic, anxious feeling crept into Rusti's gut. She squirmed, worried for Galvatron and the Autobots.

Parthon, who sat behind Optimus, leaned forward in his seat and whispered in Rusti's ear. "Take your ring off. They might confiscate it."

Just as Parthon sat back, two military police officers dressed in red armor, boarded the transport. The first MP stomped down the middle isle while the second examined the pilot's records.

First officer examined each seat and person in it. He checked under the seats and every fifth person was asked for their ID. To Rusti's relief, the officer passed her and Optimus and stopped at Parthon's row. "ID and destination." he ordered.

Parthon produced the glass card before answering the officer. "I am General Parthon. Retired. With me are two escorts, a biographer, a chef, a driver, bodyguard and maidservants. We are traveling north for the games, maybe an afternoon with Judge Irund, a friend of my late tactics professor." Parthon paused then added, "plus, the girl in white hair there is my niece. I'm hoping to find her a job."

The officer smirked. "I can give her a job," he lewdly suggested. His eyes sized her up.

"Eh," Parthon shrugged, "well, I got a guarantee and that means I can take her to the auction."

The officer nodded and returned Parthon's ID. "Enjoy your trip, General." He turned to his companion. "Next car." The two MPs exited the back and the pilot opened the front and side doors.

Passengers disembarked once the transport passed inspection. Parthon made sure his group huddled together so they'd hear him.

"There's a shrub garden not far from here. We cannot all go at the same time. Pipsqueak qand Cloudstreaker will go first. Plucky will follow alone. Magnus, Galvatron, you two go after Plucky. Dot, by yourself. Optimus, you and Rusti can follow but make sure you don't hold hands. And Rusti, you have to keep two feet behind him. Bookworm, you're last. Everyone take your time."

The ladies went first. Cloudstreaker kept her eyes forward while Pipsqueak looked everywhere around them. They reached the shrub garden and sat at a bench.

Plucky counted twelve minutes and made sure the cameras watched him. He made a clown of himself; scratched his arm pit, tugged his underwear up and tripped over his own two feet.

Magnus and Galvatron next, strolled side by side, did nothing to attract attention.

Dot took her turn and pretended to be distracted by writing a list and sat beside Plucky.

Prime and Rusti followed as planned. Rusti watched their surroundings. Most people covered themselves in rags. A few wore fresh clothing. Some females wore metal collars and bracelets. Their dirty faces barely peeked out the shadow of their deep cowls. Law enforcement gathered everywhere; one officer for every seven people.

No children.

"YOU TWO! HALT!"

Optimus froze and Rusti's face paled. A powerhouse of an officer caught up with them in two steps. Smaller minions marched to his gait.

"What is your destination, Surb?"

Optimus remained amazingly calm. "I have business with a restaurant chef. My wife is headed to the local library."

"You're not local. Where are you from?"

"Rohndes," the Autobot leader answered evenly.

"No one reads or writes in Rohndes," the officer rumbled.

"I did not say she was going to read, Sir. She likes to look at pictures."

The officer's face hardened with doubt. "What's your name, girl?"

Optimus cut in: "I'm very sorry, Officer. I don't permit my wife to speak."

The officer's face softened with slight amusement. "Business at a local restaurant, you said?"

"Yes, Sir."

The police officer stared as if making a decision. He nodded toward the transport depot. "Be back on that car you came from by sunset."

Optimus lowered his gaze and humbly nodded. "Thank you, Sir." Rusti released her breath the moment they were out of earshot.

Bookworm followed without incident. The group sat quiet until the train passengers faded and with them, most of the Mps. Parthon stood and snapped his fingers to get the group's attention. He silently signaled for them to follow. Once again, they moved one or two at a time.

Forty minutes later, they filed into a tight alley and one by one descended into a hidden stairway underneath a tall box apartment building. The stairs bottomed into a small cubical. Parthon and Cloudstreaker crouched into balls and Plucky climbed over their backs. Under the light of a single lamp, he produced a two-prong key and entered it into the middle of an old door.

Instead of opening in or outward, the door slid up, grinding against the inside wall as it vanished. Plucky clicked on a small flashlight and entered first. Parthon stood in the doorway, blocking everyone else until a light flooded the room.

"In we go!" he announced.

"Finally," Galvatron muttered.

They stepped into a large room with a porous concrete floor and disintegrating brick walls. Furniture covered in plastic sheets waited for an unveiling. At the back of the room stood a metal cabinet with drawers and cupboards securely locked.

Dot yanked off the sheet from a plush chair. "Place hasn't aged much."

Rusti disliked the musty, moldy smell. "Did you live here, Plucky?"

The Infraction's second-in-command paused before unlocking the cabinet. "How'd you guess?"

Galvatron, who grew edgy with claustrophobia, hung by the door. "Well," he said, "You do have the key."

Plucky smiled sheepishly. "I was a runner for a local medical group before they were discovered by the city and executed. This was the secret stash. We even smuggled children in and out of here."

"Speaking of children," Rusti said, "I did not see any."

"She's right," Galvatron agreed. "Are they kept elsewhere?"

Plucky unlocked the last drawer and stood quiet. "Cap'n you wanna tell them?"

"No," Parthon answered. "But I will." he panned his gaze from Rusti to Galvatron then Prime. "The state declared pregnancy illegal. All females are sterilized at the age of six. All children are conceived by DNA processors. Adults are screened and hand-picked for their DNA. Children are grown in a laboratory and raised by professional care monitors. There are no mothers or fathers or families. People marry because it's how the state controls individuals: behind closed doors without cameras.

Rusti knitted her brows. "That is so sad!"

"Got it," Plucky announced. From the back of a cupboard he dragged out a small box and unlocked it. Parthon picked out two colorless discs.

"These communicators are un-detectable. You put them on your hand and they will take on your skin color. The drawback is they only have enough power for one communication and even then, only five words. So emergency use only." He passed one device to each person. "Now," he added, "Each of you will need to take a pill. It'll hide your DNA for six days."

Cloudstreaker laid the disc on the back of her left hand. She did not like the squishy feeling it gave her. "Hide our DNA? Do they check people's DNA?"

"Random ID checks are the norm in the major cities." Dot confirmed.

Rusti scoffed. "If I sneeze, are they going to measure the pressure and take a sample?"

"I wouldn't put it pass them, Missy," Parthon answered. He handed the pills out and gave everyone a little bit of currency. "Sunset is at 11PM. Be sure to return to the shrubs before then."

Dot, Galvatron and Rusti departed for the library. The town resembled a clumsy attempt to technologically advance a people barely out of the stone age. Streets lit with LED signals on glass panels. Tall business buildings boasted of modern architecture while private homes comprised of three walls, a ceiling and sleeping/cooking areas. Military police officers dressed in complicated uniforms and armor. Conversely, some citizens did not have shoes.

Dot led Rusti and Galvatron off the main streets and into a maze of rock-and-mortar neighborhoods. The weather baked ground beneath them lay like a sponge with cobbled stones and grey dirt. The trio encountered a young woman in her hovel, suffering from illness. In another, an old man sat at a table in his micro-kitchen. Their haunted eyes hurt Rusti's heart. Despair lay over the streets and alleyways, absorbing the life and energy of all who walked upon them. Rusti tried to quell her anxiety and hoped they encountered no trouble to and from the library.

They took a right turn, passed four empty houses then a left and across the road. The library, a square building with a circular second story, squatted between a run-down, vacated house and a laundromat. A large camera panned in their direction. Rusti tried to hide her face from the cameras. Dot pretended to sneeze as they approached the door.

"Bless you," Galvatron said as he held the door open.

"For what?"

"You sneezed."

"Yes. And?"

"Erm..."

Rusti took the door from Galvatron to save him from an awkward moment. "We say 'bless you' on Earth when someone sneezes."

"I see," Dot replied. "What do you say when someone farts?"

Galvatron leaned into her ear, "I love you."

Rusti rolled her eyes but Dot wasn't fooled. "You're a thematoad, Galvatron," the old lady sneered.

Galvatron laughed once then spoke to Rusti. "What's a thematoad?"

She did not answer. They crossed the threshold and passed a pair of MPs just inside the door. Another set stood at the restrooms and a third pair guarded the single flight of stairs. Before Rusti asked the front desk clerk for directions, Dot headed for the science and medical section.

Rusti caught up with her and carefully kept her voice to a whisper. "How are Galvatron and I going to read this stuff? I"m sure it doesn't come in English."

"Don't worry about that, Hon. Pissant will handle it."

 _It figures,_ she thought. Rusti politely smiled at the old lady and claimed a shelf.

Very few 'books' were books at all. Most literature sources kept their secrets in small hockey puck discs labeled by title and author. To Rusti's surprise, other works lay engraved on metal slates, some chiseled in rock and one or two, stamped on plastic sheets.

 _City Street Parasites_

 _Metal Toxicity and Its 31 Cures_

 _The Virtues of Good Metaxian Health_

Rusti snatched the last one off the shelf and took it to Dot. The old lady sat at a screen with a puck lodged into the right side. It spun while Dot previewed page after page. Rusti leaned in close and pointed to the tablet's title. "Is this what the natives are called here, Dot?"

"Eh?" she roved her eyes from screen to a book written and bound in plastic. "That's right, Sweetie," she returned quietly. "How's that hunk doing?"

"Galvatron?"

"No other."

"Um..." Rusti withdrew and scanned the immediate area. No sign of Bald and Mischievous. She put the plastic book back and hunted from shelf to shelf until she found him in the paranatural section.

"Dot's looking in medical, Galvatron."

The Decepticon did not answer right away. He fingered on puck after another with a deep frown. "I doubt medical science can help Cyclonus, Mizz Rusti," he answered.

She leaned against the same shelf. "I don't think we're going to find the answer here, Galvatron."

He snapped eyes at her. "What makes you say that?"

She held her arms out, " _look at this place._ It's hardly larger than Rodimus' office."

"Shhh!" he admonished. "Keep your voice down.

Seeing that Galvatron's undeterred determination, Rusti gave in and searched in earnest. Why did everything around her feel like a trap?

 **-INFRACTION-**

The rest of the group ventured downtown. Parthon led the way followed by Cloudstreaker and Pipsqueak. Magnus walked beside Optimus while Bookworm tagged behind.

Optimus viewed a sad world through his visor. People passed one another with no eye contact. Their furtive glances always landed at a guard or MP. Neither animal nor plant added color or sound to the streets. People walked or rode on mass transports, wagons or en-tandem on bicycles. A sense of helpless despair weighed their faces. The oppressive gloom reminded the Autobot leader of Earth after Megatron brought Cybertron into the solar system. The destruction led to such desolation that entire cities lay wiped of all human life. The death toll stood in the hundreds of millions.

Yet humans held onto a sense of hope and purpose. Optimus sensed neither of those things here.

Who was humming?

Optimus looked to Magnus with a tilt of his head. "Magnus?" he asked, "why are you humming?"

"Hm? Uh, got this tune in my head. Can't get rid of it."

"What tune?"

"Eh... _Copacabana_ , I think."

"Copa...what?"

Magnus looked slightly annoyed. "You know. _'At the Copa, Copacabana. The hottest spot north of Havana. At the Copa, Copacabana, music and passion were always the fashion. At the Copa... they fell in love."_

Optimus stared at Magnus until they crossed the road. He could not believe Magnus just sang. In public. "I don't know that song," he denied.

They entered a small restaurant where Parthon bade them to sit at a brick-and-mortar bar. A young male with a mop of black hair and light pink skin approached them. With one glance at Parthon, he retreated to the kitchen and rattled off a series of phrases unfamiliar to the Autobots. A slim, older male in a white apron burst out the kitchen, arms open wide. " _Parthon Eb Aldor!_ " He laughed and the two hugged across the counter. Optimus watched the emotional exchange while something sinister but familiar stirred deep inside him.

He prayed it was not Darkness.

As the two males continued in light-hearted phrases, Parthon produced a transparent device the size and shape of a pocket book. He pointed to it, the cook took it and ogled as if staring at a centerfold. His tones and gestures suggested he was teasing the captain then he clearly said "no." he pointed to the doorway. "That one left two weeks ago. Said she found work in the neighboring region."

Parthon pocketed the device. "Not... Region Three, I hope."

"I hope so, too, Parth. But the magistrates have offered jobs... construction or other. Hundreds a' people passed through here from Deep South. I don't like it. 'Course, anytime the government offers gifts, I get suspicious."

"We could get you out of here, Rabe. You don't have to stay and suffer."

The elderly fellow's wrinkled face lifted int a sad smile. "It's my home. I was born here. I will die here. Not saying it was the best. But I made do with what I have. If I can't be content here, can't be content nowhere. But all the good stuff to you and yours, old friend. I took care of your passes. No worries. Take care of yourselves." he blinked and smiled at the girls and returned to the kitchen.

Abandoning their exhaustive and fruitless search, Rusti, Dot and Galvatron returned to the benches at the transport depot. Plucky joined them but sat two benches away. Captain Parthon and Cloudstreaker returned a while later. Parthon pretended to adjust Cloudy's visor, hair and jacket.

"Remember your role," Rusti heard him say. "You're a virgin and I'm taking you to an auction."

Cloudy's mouth dropped and behind her silver visor, her eyes expanded with surprise. "You're _selling_ me?!"

"You're worth a lot of money," Parthon explained. "White or silver hair is rare. And don't allow anyone to sample your DNA, all right?"

She nodded like a confused child.

Magnus, Prime and Pipsqueak joined them thirty minutes later. Bookworm appeared but he stayed at the transport gate, waiting for everyone else.

Once they regrouped with the doctor/chef, Plucky scouted and found their next transport revved and ready for the next city. Unlike last time, the group did not sit together except Rusti and Optimus and Parthon with Cloudstreaker.

Half an hour before sunset, the pilot, an older male with hard lines and deep scars on his face, took his seat. He communicated with the dispatch, waited for three more passengers and a final inspection

The transport rolled onto an old, familiar path to the next destination. Rusti held Optimus' hand but her thoughts were not on him. Her mind sifted through pages and pictures of an alien history. She recalled information she now wished she did not know. The planet's history soaked in blood and death. The Regime wrote history so much in its favor that Rusti doubted seventy percent of what she read was true.

There were no countries on Mechlatex. The Regime controlled everything and everyone. If people did not live for the Regime, they did not live. _They are all puppets_ , she thought. And at any time, for any reason, the Regime could cut their strings and toss them into the incinerator.

The landscape lay flat and bleak. In many areas, fire burned with controlled intensity. Twice Rusti swore she saw bodies lying on those heaps, engulfed in trash and flame.

Half an hour later the transport arrived at the edge of the next city. A bright orange flare flooded the windows and the transport rocked. The pilot scrambled to stop the vehicle and spoke to his passengers with a panicked voice.

"I've lost communication with Cetus City! I'm sorry but we can't stop here-" he cut off and Optimus watched while the pilot slipped on an earpiece and spoke into a radio.

The Autobot leader met Rusti's anxious eyes. "I don't think that was a manufacturing accident."

"How do you mean?" she asked quietly.

"I overheard two customers at the tavern talk about a riot."

The pilot spoke to them again; his voice firm and confident. "Stay in your seats. No matter what happens, remain in your seats."

He revved the engine and Rusti startled when the outer shell of the transport flipped out like wings. A whine emitted from under the transport and the whole train lifted further off the ground and shot past the city's border gate lines.

They raced through a town ripe with destruction. Fires ate buildings, roads and people. Explosions boomed from all directions. Flight drones zipped back and forth, spitting laser streams in building windows and shadows on the streets. Bodies lay in the streets, hung from the building wreckage or rotted in large piles, smoldering in bonfires.

Rusti covered her mouth and looked away. Optimus put an arm around her and hugged her reassuringly but said nothing.

They passed through a thick roll of black smoke before bright stars and an empty landscape appeared again. Losing interest in the sad sights, Rusti leaned against her husband's shoulder and slept lightly until the transport slowed to a stop.

"Everyone exit," the pilot announced. "This transport goes no further."

Plucky gaped and turned to Captain Parthon. "It was the only 'porter to the north! I thought-" he turned to the pilot. "Master driver, Sir, the General here intended to head further north."

"Can't," the pilot answered unconcerned. "Was supposed t' stop at Cetus. I'm ordered to turn around." his dark eyes trained on Plucky. "You can't come with me. I don't normally transport Rondites. You're on your own. Now disembark."

The native Metaxans stepped off first and complained to one another.

Parthon led his group off the transport and several yards from earshot. They huddled at the edge of a street lamp and kept their eyes out for MPs or spying cameras.

A late night chill gave everyone goosebumps. Magnus hungered. Dot turned cranky. Rusti longed for a good night's sleep and Galvatron's jokes turned bad.

Parthon called for their patience and sent Plucky scouting. "We were supposed to go to Cetus," the captain explained. "We might be in Neugoch. If that's the case, we're in luck. If not, and we've landed in Obdob, we're in trouble."

Plucky ran back to the group with a cheerful expression. "We're golden, Captain P!" we're at Neugoch! Good and very good, tu?"

Parthon smiled.

Plucky led the away team down a chilly, damp avenue. Yellow street lamps with cameras lined the sidewalks every fifty feet. They passed one closed business or shop after another and twice the group encountered a spherical building that made Rusti nervous. An icy, foul-smelling breeze forced them to cover their faces and breathe through their mouths. Cloudstreaker compared the stench to Cratis and tried not to gag.

"This way," Plucky steered them left and out the nasty wind. They wound left again and entered a stone-and-wood building. Oil lamps lit the lobby and at a metal desk, an old male slept, slumped upon its surface.

"Begging your pardon as not to disturb you," Plucky declared. He produced a wallet while the old man jumped out his clothes. "Yes, so sorry," the Infraction's second sang. "We've traveled all night. Have you any rooms?"

"Eh?" The old man in tough, weathered skin stood from the desk and approached the counter. "Need names and addresses, folks. Those cameras won't let me tell the Regime any different."

Parthon filled out the guest book for everyone while Plucky paid. He balked at the price but paid any way.

Rusti and Optimus shared a room with Galvatron. The first thing their Decepticon companion did was to search for electronic bugs or anything that resembled a camera or microphone. Optimus examined the room for security while Rusti considered sleeping on the sidewalk rather than the bed. The room smelled of stinky feet. The floor, the curtains and bed covers suffered from stains, in spite of their cleanliness. She checked for mold and bed bugs but found the sheets and worn mattresses were sterile and gleaming white.

Galvatron answered the door when Plucky knocked and announced himself. "We're heading out on the town. Newgoch has its limits but we can relax here slightly more so than had we landed in Obdob. I'm wondering, however, why the transport bypassed Obdob. Hmmm. Well, meet you out and about!"

The door closed and Rusti heaved a sigh. She really wanted to sleep. "Well, I'll go to the front desk and get a town map." she did not wait for either mech to object. The sixteen-room motel held its peace and quiet until two older, heavily tanned, male guests stepped out their room. Each held a small black case. One townsman wore an olive green, broad-rimmed hat decorated with fish hooks and flies. He smiled at her as he and his companion walked off, leaving Rusti bewildered.

She stepped into the front office and stepped aside as a burley male with roasted purple skin aimed for the exit.

He smelled of leather, rotted fish and roses. Not pleasant.

An older female with similar skin and brown hair greeted Rusti with a simple nod.

Rusti approached the counter and tucked her own straight brown hair behind her ear. "Um, hi. I'm looking for a library. I mean, um, is there a library here?"

"Not seen anything like you. Where do you come from?"

Rusti blinked and struggled to remember. "R-Rand-um, Rondues," she stammered.

The lanky female scoffed. "Rondues? And you can read?"

"Uh, my Aunt Missy taught me a little bit." Rusti realized not only was she a bad actor, but a bad liar.

"You Rondites don't usually travel this far north. Got business someplace?"

"My husband," Rusti answered swiftly. "I'm traveling with my husband and he insists I find a library and stay there."

"Looks out for you, doesn't he?"

Rusti smiled and accepted a hand-drawn map from the lady. "Are there any places to eat nearby?" The reverberation of a gong hit the outside world. Rusti glanced out the window then back to the office worker. "What was that?"

"The call to mid-week services."

"Mid-week what?"

"Mid-week services," the lady repeated. "Don't you have temple services in Rondues?"

Rusti hesitated. "I guess I never paid much attention."

"Well, Rondues is pretty far away and less fortunate than the northern and upper-northern cities." the alien female blinked. "Are you... one of the Faithful, Dear?"

Rusti knew to answer carefully." I"m not really allowed."

"You don't have to attend services to believe and be of the Faithful, Dear. _The Faithful watch and wait._ Remember what Idus, the Great Elder said, 'Great must be your patience and steadfast, believe you will survive.' Our world is changing. But it's not the end."

Rusti nodded, feeling uncomfortable under the lady's coaxing stare. "I'll give it some thought. Thank you."

"If you have questions, just ask me."

Rusti left the office, confused and conflicted. She did not grow up in a religious environment and she never gave much thought to spiritual ideology.

She returned to the room and waved the handmade map. "Food first," she said to her boys. "Then the library." Rusti noticed tears on Galvatron's face. "Are you okay? What's wrong?"

Optimus slapped Galvatron's knee. "He had a vision."

"A bad one," Galvatron added.

Due to time constraints, Galvatron could not divulge his story. The three reunited with Parthon, Dot, Plucky and Cloudstreaker. The captain agreed to a light breakfast but wanted to wait for Bookworm and Pipsqueak to join them.

The small restaurant housed many a burly male and a few females equally as muscular. All of them wore tattoos on their forearms. They chatted, laughed and ate. Rusti likened them to Scotsman with dark skin, brown hair and laughing eyes.

Pipsqueak and Plucky put two tables end to end and the group sat in the same sequence as they did on the Infraction. A waitress approached, pen and tablet in hand. Plucky read the menu and ordered light meals for everyone.

"No muscle sauces," he added as the waitress completed their order. She glared at him, retrieved the menu and walked off.

Dot, Parthon and Pipsqueak spoke about changes since their last visit. Rusti listened until their conversation switched to news of another planet. She laid a hand on Galvatron's right fist. He sat silent, brooding like she never saw Optimus brood. His visor met her gaze and he retracted his hand.

"Are you okay?" she asked quietly.

The Decepticon gave Dot, who sat beside him, a quick glanced before he shook his head. "Can't get the images out of my head."

That gained everyone else's attention and Rusti regretted placing Galvatron under their curious scrutiny. The silence lasted long enough for them to hear Magnus humming to himself.

He noticed the unwanted attention. "What? I have a stupid song running through my head."

The waitress returned, a cart in tow, loaded with their plates. She confused Magnus' order with Prime's.

"Hot sauce," Magnus said with glee. "Hot sauce is always mine."

Rusti wrinkled her brows. "Are you addicted to that stuff?"

"Don't know," he said with a mouthful, "don't care."

Rusti sipped a cup of weak, unsweetened tea and frowned. Looking at her plate, she guessed breakfast consisted of fish with fish eggs, pink rice and something resembling dark cabbage. "Parthon," she said, "you said being here was better than another town. Obd, or something."

Plucky answered her: "Obdob. Not a place you want to be. High Governor Augvahn Fracheg resides over that town with a clenched fist. It's one of three major farming communities with 31-hour sweat shops and constant military drills. They also recycle trash from the northernmost cities like Ruru, Sivich and Laktromycix. Fracheg's philosophy is 'if you don't work, you don't live."

Rusti winced, horrified. "Why would anyone live there?"

"No one wants to," Plucky answered sadly. "People are _assigned_ to live in certain areas. They have no choice, no say. They are controlled and brainwashed from the cradle to the crematory. And the Regime outlaws suicide." He turned downcast. "It happens, of course. Helpless and hopeless."

Optimus spoke up. "If no one is allowed to leave their city, how do we move?"

Parthon dabbed the sides of his mouth. "Two reasons: you're with me. I'm a retired triple-star general. And Plucky knows which towns are more relaxed than others. And thirdly, we're from Rondues. We sell our services to whomever needs them at the moment."

Magnus pushed his empty plate away and belched. "That first town, though, we had to play cloak-and-dagger. Why was that?"

Pedamao is run by Nacha Illadu. She doesn't like anybody and runs three small towns with strict scrutiny."

Magnus: "and why did we have to go there?"

"Supplies. That story is too long to tell here."

Rusti used her last question: "what kind of religion do they practice here?"

"Oh, you met a Faithful, did you?"

"The lady at the front office."

"There's two types of people on Mechlatex: those who fight against planetary changes and those who believe they will be part of the changes. The Faithful believe their bodies will change when the planet comes into its final stages of metamorphosis. The others volunteer to work at the walls. For some reason, the Regime believes walls will slow down the change. But as you saw, it's happening anyway."

Their conversation dropped when three MP's stepped into the restaurant. They called to the waitress and surrounded her, each asking one demanding question after another.

Rusti dropped her gaze when the waitress pointed to the group. The MP's approached as if they owned the establishment.

"You will all come with us right this minute."

Parthon bounced his gaze from one officer to the next. "What have we done, sirs?"

"It's what you failed to do. You did not register your visit upon arrival. You will come with us for processing."

Rusti paled. "Are we under arrest?"

"Do you _want_ to be under arrest?" the second officer sneered.

Rusti hurried to her feet. Parthon touched her hand, reassuring.

"I ask your forgiveness, my good sirs," the captain placated. "It was my fault. I accept full responsibility. We will be happy to accept your guidance to the station.

Without another word, the rest of the group stood in unison and followed the three officers outside.

Rusti tightly folded her arms as they quickened along the streets, crossing twice. They approached a two-story white building braced on either side with flying buttresses. Two sets of double doors forced the group to split up with one officer taking Dot, Magnus, Bookworm and Plucky. The other two MP's ushered the rest through the left doors.

Everyone was ordered to 'plant it' on a row of uncomfortable wooden benches. The officers approached a large desk and spoke in quiet tones. The lady at the desk, an older female with light pink skin, peered at the group between the officers and touched a device in her ear. She spoke quietly then gave her coworkers their orders.

Several males in dark blue uniforms picked the group apart. They dragged Rusti away while her heart pounded in her throat. They shoved her into a closet where a cold mist, a blue light and a brief sonic burst assailed her from all sides. As soon as they shoved her in, they yanked her out the other side and put her in a small room with a bright light, an old, sturdy table and three chairs.

A few minutes turned into several before Rusti lost count. She paced, leaned against a wall, sat in one chair then laid on the table. The moments ticked, unaccounted and unaccumulative.

The door opened and her eyes snapped open. She sat up, groggy from sleep. Rusti slipped off the table as two male officers entered the room. She sat in the chair closest to the wall and tightened her muscles with anxiety.

One officer with a deep scar on his right cheek, set an electronic clipboard on the table. The second officer, an older male with hard eyes, took the chair closest to the door and sighed as if impatient.

"Here we are. What's your name?"

"Rus-" she hesitated, not sure if she should answer truthfully or not. The officers stared at her. Not the faintest flicker of patience or mercy touched their expressions. "Rusti Witwicky.

They continued to stare at her as if expecting more. The scarred male sat straight. "You're not from around here, are you, Rusti Witwicky?"

"N-no, Sir. I'm from Rondues." she received two entirely different reactions; the scarred male glowered at her while his partner sniggered.

'Scarred' leaned forward and drilled her with his eyes. "When you're done _lying_ to us, we'd like to hear your story."

"Lying?" Rusti forgot to breathe. "I-"

"Where. Are. You. From?" Scarred jumped to his feet and slapped the table inches from her. "WHO ARE YOU?!"

Rusti jumped, startled. When calm enough she set her eyes on the older male. "I have an ID," she answered.

The older male feigned surprise. "Oh! Did you hear that, Vies? She has an ID. Tell me, Little Alien Life Form: is it a _Metexan_ ID? Eh?"

Rusti slowly withdrew the glass plate and laid it on the table. The males looked at it then at her and had the situation been different, Rusti would have laughed at their simultaneous movements.

The older man picked up the ID and waved it like a card. "This is the lie. You're not that smart, are you?"

Then she realized what they meant. Rusti hunch her shoulders and dropped eye contact. _Code word: 'alien,'_ she thought. "Please don't be mad at me," she begged childishly. "I didn't mean to break your laws. They made me. They took me from home when I was really little."

The two softened slightly.

Vies settled bac in his chair. "By 'they', you mean the people you're with?"

"No," Rusti said sadly. "I escaped my masters."

"Who were your masters?"

Her answer came in a whisper: "Quintessons."

Both males swore. "So the Quintessons abducted you? From where?"

"Earth."

Scarred grimaced. "Earth, what?"

"Just 'Earth'. I don't know how far away we are." she paused. "Am I... am I under arrest?"

"Depends," Vies answered. "What do you know about the other people you're with?"

"They have a pet talking snail."

Her interrogators filed notes on their respective pads and once again left Rusti to herself. Sitting in the worn, wooden chair, Rusti spread her arms across the table and banged her head on its hard surface.

Some time later the door opened. Rusti rolled her eyes up. "Thank God. I was about to start counting my hair strands."

"This way," came the feminine, deadpan response.

Rusti strolled behind the female officer until they entered a large conference room. The rest of the group sat or stood, equally as bored as she.

Vies joined three other MPs and compared tablets with his peers. Once satisfied with their shared information, the four alien police faced the Infraction's crew.

"Stand up," Vies ordered. "Stand up and form a line." he waited until they obeyed then read from the pad in his hand. "Someone is not telling the truth. With mild respect to the General, he _re,_ you're all liars. Too Tall Tobee, there claimed-and I quote-a babe in the woods, discovered by poor people in a distant village. Vies lowered his tablet. "Now, that's cute. Except there aren't any forests in, near or around Rondues." he eyed Magnus specifically. "Are you blind, or just a special stupid? Then someone else told us the whole group escaped some secret evil military science lab."

Parthon laid eyes on Pipsqueak over the last statement. She did not meet his gaze but grinned anyway.

Vies continued: "Buddy Baldy there said he came to return a friend's soul to his body." the officer lowered his pad. "Really?" he asked. "Are you some sort of religious freak? Or did one of those 'Faithful' give you an idea you couldn't keep to yourself?" Vies paused and stabbed each 'inmate' with his eyes. "And 'Ladies man-" he pointed to Optimus, "-said you were all on a sight-seeing tour. What madness is _wrong_ with you people? You realize you're on Mechlatex, am I right? Nobody comes here for vacation! We _execute_ invaders, dissidents and spies. So someone had _better_ give me the truth, _now_."

"I love it here!" Galvatron blurted.

Optimus and Vies stared at him, incredulous. "What?" they chorused.

"I _had_ to come!" the Decepticon proclaimed. "It called to me and I lied to my companions so they'd bring me here that I may be locked into Mechlatex's eternal embrace. Oh, and she's ever so beautiful! I shall sing her praises!"

Rusti palmed her face.

Vies grunted, unconvinced. "So what's with _General Parthon_ , _retired_ , story?"

"That part's true!" Pipsqueak answered.

"And nothing else is?" Vies' face grew harder by the moment. He stepped forward and eyes each person with contempt. "I'm going to execute each and every one of you and dangle your bodies from the street lights like limp flags!"

Rusti's words fell out her mouth before her brain caught them: "can we meet and greet with Lord Psyklenex first?"

"What?" Vies' voice pitched with astonishment.

"What?" Optimus echoed.

"You can't be serious," Magnus added.

"Me, too!" Galvatron joined, "I wanna see His Glory! Oh, the mighty Grounds Keeper of my beloved planet!" the Decepticon clasped his hands and batted his eyes.

"No!" Rusti objected. "I asked first!"

Vies: "HAVE ANY OF YOU PEOPLE ANY IDEA THE TROUBLE YOU'RE IN?!"

Pipsqueak: "It was initially _my_ idea!"

Parthon: "I'm on vacation and my constituents have cabin fever."

The room burst with a confusion of bad confessions, falsified reports, petty arguments and four officers who failed to decide who to handle first.

The doors burst open and a female MP shouted Vies' name. All voices died at her distraction. "Captain!" she cried, "there's been a horrible accident at the lake."

"THEN HANDLE IT!"

"Sir," she insisted, "a fishing boat smashed into the communications array two streets from us." She stepped aside when the other three MPs fled the room.

Vies took a step toward the door, stopped short and looked at his alien prisoners. His brows furrowed with confusion. He blinked at the female officer then to the prisoners; back at her then at Optimus Prime."

" _Go!_ Optimus urged. "We can talk about this later!"

Rusti could not believe the MP team took Optimus' advice. He handed the lady his tablet and departed. Rusti looked at the Autobot leader with a dropped jaw. "How did you do that?"

Galvatron walked past her with a grin. "He's Optimus Prime, Missy." he winked at her over his shoulder I think there's a library we need to visit."

"We are under arrest, Galvatron." Rusti objected.

Parthon raised his eyes to the wall clock. "No we're not. We were brought in for questioning. And we need to get moving. Pissant is adamant we find and rescue Ryumee. Motel in three hours, everyone."

Rusti lingered, confused while everyone else filed out. "Is there something I'm missing here?"

Plucky laid a hand on her shoulder. "Sea vessels don't crash into communication towers by themselves, Miss Rusti. _That_ was Pissant."

Dot, Galvatron and Rusti found the library. Rusti did not expect to find an old, small building with a sign on the door 'CLOSED UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE'.

Defiant, Galvatron folded his arms. "Now I _really_ want to know what they're hiding!'

With a wicked smile, Dot snapped out a knife. "Me too. Help me out here, Handsome."

Rusti kept a look-out while Dot and Galvatron searched the old stone building for an entrance. Her brain tried to make sense of what went on a the MP headquarters. No way, _no way_ should they have gotten away! _No way._

"Got it!" Dot declared.

Rusti concluded one or all of them were going to be the death of her sanity.

Dot poked her head out a window, hissed for Rusti's attention then helped her inside.

The library resembled a home rather than a storehouse of knowledge. An eerie lifelessness chilled the building as if the trio broke into a morgue. Dot did not wait to introduce Rusti to the place. She slipped away and joined Galvatron who scanned title after title.

Overwhelmed and befuddled, Rusti roved her eyes from one floor-to-ceiling bookcase to another. What happened at the MP should not have been possible. But why was she the only one confused about it? Was Pissant really that powerful? Or, or did she witness a miracle?

Maybe it didn't matter. Maybe the situation wasn't that important. But then, she lived during a moment when Autobots are humanoid and Magnus and Galvatron seemed like different people. Well, Magnus moreso. The Major-general came to life, as it were. He was so much freer with himself, so much more comfortable in his own skin. Rusti tried not to laugh at the thought but it was true. And she loved Galvatron who was more like an uncle; they were her family.

Perhaps, she concluded once again, anything is possible.

A giant plastic cover caught her attention. "Quaynor's Illustrated History of Psyklenox's Regime."

She bee-lined for the tittle like iron to a magnet. The book did not disappoint. One thin, stiff page after another described histories of wars, planets, peoples and maps; _lots_ of maps. _This isn't a book_ , Rusti thought, _it's a treasure_.

The best part of the book hit her like a wrecking ball. At the book's center, a map folded out three times, displaying an exact copy of the map she and Optimus Prime found at Parsus.

A hail storm of clattering pucks startled Rusti and she watched as Galvatron turned his back on a nearby table cleared of literature. Pucks lay on the ground like discarded coins. The Decepticon bowed over, hands covered his face. He drew a deep breath and stood straight. "It's not here," he growled. "The answer is not here."

"Maybe not, Dot replied calmly, "We'll just keep looking."

"We are running out of time," Galvatron snarled.

Dot opened her mouth to say something when the communication pad on the back of her hand lit up. She read it, ripped it off and threw it in the trash. "We have to go. Now. Something's wrong."

The group huddled in Parthon's motel room.

"Jackson somehow escaped the Infraction." Parthon delivered the message like a death knell.

Everyone turned to Galvatron who stared at the captain with a glazed expression.

Rusti broke the silence: "Doesn't the ship have scanners? What about Pissant and his supposed omnipotent little self?"

Optimus: "Perhaps we should head back."

Galvatron laced his fingers and ran them over his hairless head. "That will accomplish nothing," he growled. "That fool is fortunate to be in Cyclonus' body. Otherwise I'd suggest leaving him to rot at the bottom of this communist smelthole."

"This is bad," Magnus added. "Once they have apprehended Jackson, they most certainly will execute him."

"I don't mean to sound heartless," Dot put in, "But we still have a mission to find and rescue that Ryyumee girl. Eh, I guess she's a girl?"

Plucky slapped his legs and sighed. "We could split up," he suggested. "Cap'n you an' Dot off an' go find Ryyumee and I'll take Bald and Tall and go hunting for a body snatcher."

Dot pointed at the Infraction's second-in-command. "Every hour we are here, we are dancing with our demise. No matter how many prayers are said to protect us, Psyklenox will find us out, if he has not already."

Optimus grew impatient. "What is our course of action, then?"

Parthon shook his head and the group held their collective peace, each one thinking.

"We gotta get intel," Plucky finally suggested. "No-go without word from around the world. If Jackson Cyclonus has been seen or caught, word is bound to bounce around from city to city, 'specially if it's an off-worlder who's got no ID. And them sailors like to gossip like old ladies."

"Hey!" Dot snapped.

Plucky ignored her. "I know a place where they make the _worst_ beer in the Regime by the lake."

Pipsqueak raised her hand. "I'm in. Plucky's got the right idea. Those ships, lots of them, are retrofitted space vessels. Me and Cloudy can harvest bits and slices for the Infraction."

Parthon sent her a mock stern look. "Well, then, I'll _have_ to go to make sure you two don't end up swinging from a rafter."

"Ultra Magnus and I will accompany you," Optimus volunteered. "Rusti?"

His wife shook her head. "No thanks. I hate bars; they're loud and smelly." Rusti held up the book she 'borrowed' from the closed library. "I have reading to do. And Galvatron can keep me company."

Optimus tilted his head. "What have you got there, Rusti?"

"I will be happy to stay with Mizz Rusti," Galvatron agreed. "A bar brawl is the last thing we need and I'm in the mood to punch something."

Rusti shared her book with Prime before he left. The Autobot leader deduced their unlikely visit to Neugoch was neither a waste of time nor accidental.

 **-INCLINATION-**

Unlike the last places they've been to, Neugoch resembled a town that could have been found during Earth's Dark Ages. Lake-effect moisture hugged old stone buildings and blacktop, encouraging moss growth. The homes were different, too: four walls and doors, some homes even owned a small front yard. Optimus wondered if Neugoch was home to a slightly higher class of society.

The first pier they encountered stood empty, abandoned. A large metal boat creaked in rhythm with the waves as it sat, smashed into a dock. A sour, fetid stench rolled from it. The group walked faster, protecting their noses.

The second pier bustled with activity. Young men and boys barely older than ten cleaned and scrubbed small boats under the waning sun. Bulky, weather-worn men unloaded giant nets bursting with fish. Women treaded the lake shore tending laundry or mending giant sails.

The pier defined the difference between Neugoch and every place else Optimus witnessed. The people chattered freely; some even laughed. The Autobot leader paused long to catch some conversation. Phrases like "It was beautiful..." Or "I loved how..." reached his ears. Optimus wanted to hear more but moved on when Magnus called him.

The group entered a well lit tavern-like place crowded with old tables and burley men. Ladies waited on tables and cleaned the establishment between conversations among the sailors and fishermen.

Parthon rolled up his sleeves with a confident but weary smile. 'Everyone find a table. I'm going to get menus."

Plucky picked a semi-circular booth against the far wall. Magnus sat beside Prime and failed to answer Cloudstreaker when she asked about two guys arm wrestling a few tables away. She asked again but he only shrugged. Frustrated with his lack of response, Cloudy sat between Dot and Pipsqueak.

Captain Parthon returned followed by two waitresses bearing round silver trays. Parthon sat beside Plucky as one barmaid set drinks in front of the group. She retreated and the second girl set her tray in the middle of the table. A mountain of bread steamed, fresh from the oven, surrounded by eight small dishes piled with roasted meat.

"Grab a dish, everyone!" Parthon ordered cheerfully.

The second barmaid hovered; "T'will that be enough, General?" she asked politely.

"More than, good lady." he answered.

Plucky at small amounts before checking his pockets for money. He frowned. "You got one more tak on you, Captain?"

"Do I look like a treasure chest, Plucky?"

"Yes. And I think I need two."

Optimus and Magnus smirked as Parthon grunted, dove into his wallet and handed Plucky two large coins. "You owe me, Plucky."

"I got soda for that," the second-in-command piped cheerfully. He slipped away and planted himself on a stool at the stone bar.

The doors slammed open and all eyes turned. Four large males stomped in wearing thick coats and heavy boots. The first of the four raised a fist before raising his booming voice: "Caught ourselves a hundred-geit beast right outta his grove. Drinks an' meat on us!"

The room erupted with cheers and applause before the second male, built like a rock, bellowed: "Haul out the harpichordium!"

More applause and some whooping deafened the air while a metal circular object rolled out of a back store room and dropped on one flat side. A female excused herself behind the bar, dragged a chair to the harpichoridum and played a short phrase in E-flat. The room roared with a well-known song while another waiter set mug after mug of beer on every table. Dot tried to say something above the ruckus but her voice failed and she made hand signals instead. Captain Parthon nodded and waived her good-bye as she slipped into the celebration.

Magnus stared at his mug then at Prime's then raised brows at the Autobot leader.

The song ended and the crowd cheered and begged for more. The lady musician asked for a drink before the next song.

During the interlude, Cloudy turned to Pipsqueak. "How about we take off for our scavenger hunt?" Pipsqueak agreed and Cloudy turned to Magnus. "Won't you join us, Commander? It'll go faster.

Magnus pointed a thumb to Optimus. "I'm Prime-sitting."

Disappointed, Cloudstreaker wordlessly nodded. Bookworm tagged them stating something about safety and numbers.

Optimus and Magnus remained at the table while Plucky and Parthon mingled among the people. Layer by layer downward, the Autobot leader suspected trouble loomed over them like a tornado descending from a wall cloud. Prime hoped their hosts found answers so they could leave as soon as possible.

Magnus drank his beer, finished Dot's dish of meat and drank Cloudy's mug of beer. He hummed and bounced his head in time with the music. Optimus watched the crowd as they took turns dancing with a pretty girl. He did not watch as Magnus polished at fourth beer that appeared when a waitress passed their table.

The tavern dropped in noise when the music ended and more food appeared on table after table. People ordered different drinks and turned to private conversations. Optimus watched Parthon speak with a fisherman and two females dressed in thick layers of leather. Judging by their respective body language, they spoke of things Parthon considered important.

Gradually the Autobot leader realized Magnus softly hummed beside him. Puzzled, Prime turned to the city commander. "Why do you keep humming, Ultra Magnus?"

Magnus did not answer immediately. "It's in my head."

"What's in your head?"

"All of them."

Prime slid away to get a better look at Magnus. "What are you talking about?"

Ultra Magnus, mighty city commander, broke into tears. "It's _his_ fault, Optimus!"

"What?"

" _Rodimus!_ He gave me earworms!"

Optimus slid a little further away. "I did not know

Rodimus was ill."

"It's _all_ the music!" Magnus exploded. "It's song after song after song after song! Prime! Optimus, you _have_ to help me get revenge for this! Every single song; torture! Disney music, Chicano music, Julio Iglesias- _Madonna_!"

"Madonna? As in 'Papa Don't Preach'?"

Magnus gripped his hair. "Borderline."

Optimus groaned.

Magnus sniffed. "I want it to stop."

Optimus had no answers.

Parthon reclaimed his seat and frowned at his empty beer mug. Well, seems Laktromycix has been under curfew for four days. Something about contraband or other flimsy excuse."

Optimus kept a steady gaze on the captain. "Are you certain we need to go to Laktromycix?"

Parthon tapped three fingers on the table top. "I want to say no, on one hand. On the other, I can say 'yes' because you and yours do not have to come with us."

Optimus did not move. "We must find Cyclonus. But I am not comfortable allowing you to go alone."

Plucky returned with pallid cheeks and wide eyes. He leaned forward and spoke quietly. "Decepticons 'r in Laktro, Captain."

Magnus perked up. "Skorponok?" he asked.

"Don't know. Don't think so by the description." Plucky smirked. "Says people think they're boats when they shift."

Magnus glanced at Parthon. "Blue boats?"

Plucky blinked, surprised. "Yeah."

Prime sat straight. "Scourge and the Sweeps."

Plucky tilted his head like an iguana. "What's that?"

Magnus pursed his lips. "The Three Stooges and their leader, Inspector Gaget."

Parthon frowned at both of them. "What are the Decepticons doing in Laktro?"

Optimus never heard the answer. His thoughts tunneled out of his surroundings like a clairvoyant vision.

" _It's called 'remote viewing."_

" _I know what it is, Doctor," Prime said pointedly. "I want to know whether or not she has it."_

" _There aren't tests for this sort of thing, Prime," the psychic returned. "If she's displaying other signs of psycho-kinesis, then she may very well possess the same ability. But Rusti is only six years old. She won't understand why her connection to you is so... rare."_

 _Remote viewing._

 _Rusti sat on the old motel bed, studying her stolen book. Galvatron cast his gaze out the window then turned to her._

" _What happened to the communication between you and the Primes, Rusti?"_

" _Hm?"_

" _You don't seem to mentally connect to Rodimus or Optimus anymore."_

 _Rusti lowered the book and gazed at the Decepticon. "I don't know for sure. I think it was the Virus. Don't tell Optimus, but It affected me; It infected me. Yet, somehow," she paused again, "I think it was Void who saved me when I was dying of the Q-Virus."_

Magnus spoke Optimus' name but Optimus could not respond. Locked in a trance, the Autobot leader stared into nothing, seeing nothing but those images and events inside his mind. He was aware of Pipsqueak's and Cloudy's return. He heard the girls discuss the number of goods they confiscated off fishing boats. He was aware of Cloudy's attempt to connect to Magnus and of the commander's vapid response.

Cloudy left the table and Pipsqueak hissed at the Major-general. _"You are an asshole!"_

" _Hu?"_

" _That girl is crazy about you and you have been either rebuff, blowing her off or you are colossally stupid!"_

"She loves me?"

"Are you really that thick-headed, Ultra Magnus?"

"Well, no. I never imagined anyone falling in love with me."

Dot sneered. "And she won't much longer if you don't go talk to her, you over-sized galoot!"

Cloudstreaker screamed and struggled against two muscle-bound males. One told her to shut up; that she was too sweet a piece of real estate to ignore.

Optimus remained stationary, unable to move. He wanted to. He knew Cloudstreaker was in trouble. But something kept him locked, even when Parthon shouted at him and shook him as if to awaken the Autobot from sleep.

 _What was happening? What was wrong?_ Prime's mind raced across Mechlatex's bizarre landscape.

Magnus leapt over the table in a smooth and graceful fashion. In three long footfalls, he crossed the room, rushing after Cloudstreaker and her kidnappers. Pipsqueak left the table but Parthon called her back and ordered her and Dot back to the ship to finish the assimilator.

"Finish the assimilator, girl!" he repeated. "Me and Plucky will go on to Laktromycix. You be ready to get us out at a word's notice!"

Pipsqueak acknowledged but Optimus heard nothing further. He lost all awareness of his immediate environment and found himself in a meadow covered in long dry grasses and gains.

 _Rodimus approached with a sad face. Oddly enough, Optimus was glad to see his friend back in robotic form._

" _I'm sorry, Op," Roddi said upon arrival. "I couldn't keep It at bay. Desolate... Desolate..." Rodimus looked away in shame. "Sometimes, I think I'm the wimp between us."_

" _You are not, Rodimus," the Senior Prime replied sadly. "Both of us carry a demon within."_

" _Yeah. Well, mine escaped."_

" _Rodimus, Cloudstreaker's in trouble." Optimus did not see the giant image of Desolate rising behind him._

 _Rodimus broke down and wept. "So am I."_

42


	6. Chapter 6

DSR CH 14.6 INCLINATION

 **Author's Note** : It saddens me that I've had to narrate so much of this story. But for the sake of time, the story must be finished. Also, 'tu' means 'affirmative' or 'positive'. Onward!–T.L. Arens

TRANS-SPATIAL INCLINATION

Vi

Dark room. A lonely light flickered to life. A small wooden table appeared under it. Rodimus sat on a small wooden chair, confused but straight-faced. Across him sat the biped Virus, Desolate.

Why, why did this abomination look so much like an Inouxian Assassin?

Rodimus shut off his optics. If this were a dream, he needed to wake up.

 _Wake up!_

Pain sliced one cheek and stung the other. His head swung right then left, respectively.

"INSULT FORBIDDEN."

"What?" Rodimus searched Desolate's lack of facial features and at first saw only his own. But the longer he stared, the clearer he perceived the face of an abomination. They're not eyes, Rodimus realized. Desolate needed no face.

Prime shifted from fear to courage and faced the life-sucking entity. "You're complaining I insulted you because I thought you were a dream? For real?" the Autobot leader leaned back, comfortably confident and folded his arms. "You're in prison. You're _my_ prisoner, D-Boy. Don't you have toilets to clean or something?"

Just when Rodimus didn't think the damn Matrix Virus could be any weirder, the thing laughed.

Desolate _laughed_. Its triangular head tilted and bounced. "PREDICTABLE. PATHETIC."

"Shut up." Rodimus snapped. "You don't know what you're talking about. You don't have intellect. You just compute and recite."

Desolate stood and leered at the Autobot. "ALL THINGS. LEARNED FROM YOU, RODIMUS PRIME. FRAUD. JESTER. FAKE."

Roddi frowned. "Nobody's perfect, Paper-Face."

"YOU SPEAK," Desolate returned. "FALSIFIED BRAVADO."

Rodimus jumped to his feet, flipped the table and gripped the Virus' neck with a crushing a hold. "Don't piss me off, Desolate!"

"NOT SO DIFFICULT A TASK."

Blunt force rammed Rodimus in the nether region. He instinctively released Desolate and received a kick to the chin. Roddi flew backward and landed shoulder-first. He rolled slowly, suppressing pain until he conjured the strength to retaliate. Desolate caught the first strike but did not see the other punch. The Virus jerked left and Rodimus repeated the left strike with greater impact. Desolate dropped and finished with several kicks to the abomination's head. Desolate lay still.

Rodimus roared, declaring his momentary victory. "Stay down, Core-Hole!" He kicked Desolate three more times.

Deep breath. The world changed into a soft deep couch, gentle light and sounds from -a TV? Rodimus opened his eyes.

A set of tiny eyes blinked at him. A set of antennae arched toward him. Rodimus lapped an arm over his eyes. "Primus, why did I wake up to _you_?"

Pissant snorted, amused. "First off, a simple 'thank you' will suffice. Secondly, Primus doesn't exist in this reality anymore."

Roddi grunted. "What am I supposed to thank you for?"

"Bailing you out of that fight you had. Is that your answer for everything, Rodimus Prime?"

A dizzy spell assailed the Autobot leader and he winced. "What?"

"Fighting."

"No. Sometimes I answer the phone with 'Rodimus Prime, your dime."

"And brain disengaged," Pissant added. "Yes, I am aware of that."

Rodimus glared. "Don't you have some liver to devour?"

"Why? You want some?"

"Uugh." Rodimus rolled, facing the other wall. "Why don't you perform a disappearing act?"

"Don't want to." the mollusk sniped childishly. "It's more entertaining to antagonize you."

"Fine." Rodimus replied. "Antagonize this:" he flipped the snail off. Rodimus extracted himself from the cozy couch and staggered toward the door. "Or this:" he added. He flipped both middle fingers at Pissant who regarded the insult with an impassive frown.

"Do you know what your problem is?" the snail said before Rodimus left the room.

Roddi stopped short, rolled his eyes and turned around. "Yeah. It's sitting on the couch, staring at me with beady black eyes."

"You have no faith. There is not one speck of confidence left in you."

Rodimus' eyes narrowed. Pissant did not move, unintimidated, when Prime's face filled his vision. "Say it again," Prime sneered. "Then ask me if I care."

"Don't need to," Pissant returned with similar tones. "You pretend you don't care. But the fact is, you're two straws shy of suicide. _My_ question is, what's keeping you here? You think anyone would care? Would they miss you? You're a train of self-inflicted miseries looking for a good wreck. And you keep passing the opportunity to do so."

"Suicide?" Roddi scoffed. " _You. First._ "

"Go into the D-con chamber in the transporter room. Flip the red switch. Fast, painless and clean."

It was a good idea. Roddi blinked, half surprised. Or was it actually his own thoughts that declared it good? Rain shouted from the doorway and Rodimus blinked again as if hypnotized and suddenly aware.

"PISSANT!" The girl called, "don't talk to him!"

The mollusk folded his tiny arms. "It was a private conversation and no business of yours."

Rodimus mentally reeled and staggered when Rain gripped him by the upper arm and ushered him out the room. Rain firmly held onto him even as Rodimus lost his balance amid confusion. His mind turned to mush. Seconds ago, his head was so clear and his temper so high. What happened just then?

He sat on his bed, aware of four walls, the blanket under him and the figure sitting in his chair.

Albert sat on the table, staring at nothing.

Rodimus clutched his head and when he spoke, his own voice sounded drowned and disconnected. "What's happening to me?"

"I'll explain it if you promise to sit still another few moments."

Rain's bright face and crazy hairstyle gave something for Roddi to focus on. "Okay, " he agreed weakly.

"You passed out the moment the captain and company left the ship. I wanted to take you to medical and call Bookworm back. But Little Pisser said he'd handle it. So he gave you a couch and watched for twenty cycles. I just, you know, checked in during visiting hours. When you started talking in your sleep, I suspected something was wrong. Seems I was almost too late. Your dreams gave Pissant access to your subconscious."

Rodimus' head throbbed with a newly-formed migraine. His eyesight dimmed. "You mean that slimy bastard was playing with me?"

Rain's concern grew. "Yeah. Lie down, Rodimus. You're going to be sick."

"I _am_ sick." Roddi corrected. "I'm sick and tired. I'm sick and dizzy. I'm a sick son of a-"

"Yeah, I got it." Rain gently pushed Roddi into his pillow and hauled his feet onto the bed. She left then returned with a cold wet washcloth and laid it over Rodimus' eyes. He instantly relaxed while the pile of questions grew.

"Rain? Rain, he suggested I end it all. He said..." Rodimus' heart choked him. "I know what that'd do to Op. I can't leave. I can't leave Optimus, no matter... He's, I mean, Rusti takes care of him, right? But he can't handle _everything_. There's... and Desolate..."

Rodimus remembered saying nothing more. His body melted under the snug security of his own quarters and the fresh cloth over his eyes. A gentle scent of spearmint eased the pain and reality slipped away.

Rodimus took his good morning to the kitchen. Rain smiled him hello and chewed on a slice of toast.

"Better, now, Rodimus?"

Rodimus picked Optimus' chair. "Yeah, so to speak. At least the noggin is on straight. Do you want me to mush with gratitude?"

"Na. And you're welcome. Coffee?"

"Yeah. Got food?"

Rain smirked. "I'll go check. Might be a few crumbs in the cabinet."

She left for the counters and cupboards and while she wasn't looking, Rodimus stole a sip of her coffee.

Bitter. Nasty. Bad idea.

"Rod, how do you like your hot and black?"

"Not like yours," he replied stiffly.

She laughed then: "Oh! THIS!" Rain peeked round the corner. "Hey, ever had pugs?"

"Pugs? You mean little dogs with smashed faces?"

"No, my ignorant leader-don't-wannabe." Rain held up a large tin can written in a foreign language with a smiling cartoon character. "Pugs. I'll bake some." she turned to the oven. "We love this stuff. I guess Bookworm forever-borrowed it from the Pokies when they got sick with hax."

 _Deja vu_. Rodimus shivered. "Wait. What did you say?"

"We did a trade-deal with a ship of BDX Pokies who came down with a case of hax infection."

"Hax? That sounds familiar. Where..." Rodimus banged his brains. Why did that sound so familiar? His head came up with zip. Rain set coffee in front of the Autobot leader and drank half her cup. Rodimus mechanically sipped the brew.

The event settled to silence until Rain spoke again. "I can smell it when you're thinking and when you're spacing. The burnt wires don't come out your ears, choking for real air. But I think I got the pattern."

Rodimus tried to smile. "Me and Op have been through the Pitt a few times. He's finally recovering. But I still got dents and scratches." he took a third sip. "Seems we've come so far but..." Roddi shrugged.

"The coals are still hot," Rain finished.

"Yeah. Still there."

Silence held their tongues until a buzzer called Rain into the kitchen. Rodimus smirked when she reacted to a burn with a colorful expletive. She closed the oven and brought a plate to the table. Rodimus stared at the pile of bread twists.

Rain took her chair and grabbed a twist. "Better eat while you can. I don't wait politely when it comes to pugs." she nabbed a second helping when Rodimus reached for his first. Rain chewed happily when Roddi's eyes enlarged with surprise. A sound of delight escaped his throat.

"And that," Rain said, "is why they call it 'comfort food."

"It explains Rusti's fondness for chocolate. Especially during her period."

"Girls are funny creatures," Rain polished off her second pug. "I know from personal experience."

Roddi feigned surprise. "You don't say!"

She smiled when he took up his second pug. "Sometimes I have nightmares about my past with Shuzuul Dyy. Can't guess if they're dreams, real events or something my head's working through. It's confusing. Sometimes I don't know how to react. I don't know if I should be angry or not. I mean, yeah, I can get steamed over what happened to me, imagined or real. But it doesn't do any good because the Quintesson is dead. She shrugged. "Burn. Heal. Scar."

"Do you remember anything before Schmuzzle Die?"

Rain shook her head. "Wiped memory, remember? I don't know if I even had a life before him."

Rodimus grabbed two more pugs and Rain took the last three. She broke one in half and shared. Rodimus forced himself to admit he liked her. "I gotta thank you, Rain, for dragging my wimpy ass away from Pissant. I don't suppose I can extract an apology from him, do you?"

"He'll lie about it to your face, Roddi. But there's always a way to get under his shell."

"Say that again," Rodimus requested.

Rain ate another bite. "I know how to piss him off."

Rodimus grinned. "No, my name. I liked how you said my name."

She turned perplexed. "Roddi?"

His eyes shined, pleased to hear it from a new friend. "You, uh, you said the A.V. room is your fave place. Wanna translate that?"

She smirked in the middle of a bite. Roddi thought it cute. Rain chewed and swallowed before answering. "Well, you can't trapeze from the ceiling but you can watch a lot of movies."

"Yeah? I like movies. Not... you know... girl stuff like a girl and her horse. Mysteries are good. I like action films and stupid-scary flix."

She stared, perplexed. "What's a horse?"

They watched three movies before Rodimus called good night. Rain respected his need for sleep and returned to the bridge to give Pittstop a break.

At first Rodimus wasn't sure he'd find sleep once he tugged the blanket over his middle. But he dropped eyeballs-first into a vat of thick nothingness.

 _Is this the Matrix?_

 _Rodimus. Here. This way._

 _He turned and pain knocked him off his feet. He recovered enough to lose his temper. The Autobot leader stood and faced Desolate. "Nice. Let's try that again."_

" _CHOOSE. SIDE."_

 _Roddi delivered an all-or-none right cross and caught Desolate by surprise. "You just can't seem to get enough of me."_

 _Desolate psychically projected a devious grin. "OBJECTIVE UNDETERRED. TARGET STILL IN SIGHT."_

" _And I thought Magnus' jokes were pathetic. FYI, paper-face: I hold the keys to your prison. No matter how you rattle the bars and tear up your bed, you're going to stay put. Got me?"_

 _Desolate attacked with a hiss. Rodimus kicked it in the chin then the chest. The Virus hit the ground and Roddi helped himself to a kicking spree. "YOU! ARE! MY! BITCH!" He leaned over, optics flaring. "Do you get that, yet?"_

 _The Virus remained down. Its long pointed fingers clawed the floor. "DEATH. DEATH. DEATH. IT. FOLLOWS. YOU."_

 _At this point, I don't care. Now stay down, smelthead, or I'll find something nasty with which to torment you!"_

Date with Daniel Witwicky.

"Oh boy!" Roddi entered the storage bay with a plate piled with food. A white napkin covered the dish and waved as Rodimus danced across the room.

He slid the banquet into Daniel's cage and waited. "For the rat's ass," he proclaimed and waited.

Daniel scoffed inside his 'bedroom'. "Am I supposed to jump out, tail wagging, tongue drooling? Oooh! Scraps from the table!"

"Scraps?" Roddi feigned surprise. "Why I'd never feed you meager scraps, Dano-Mano! You're not good enough for scraps. No, no. This- _this_ I scraped off the kitchen floor!"

Witwicky emerged with a bored, unamused expression. He grunted, having no reply to Rodimus' sarcasm. He reached for the napkin when he saw a drawing on it of himself as a piece of gum and Rodimus lifting his foot up. Daniel rolled his eyes. "Oh, look at that," he said with equal sarcasm: "who would have known Rodimus Prime could draw?"

"I can sing, too," Roddi bragged. "I used to sing your daughter to sleep."

Witwicky gave Rodimus a look of contempt. "I don't have a daughter other than Dezi. You _murdered_ Resonna. That _thing_ is not my daughter. She's not even human.

That pressed a button and Rodimus' blue eyes flared. "Rusti is off limits. Got that? _This ship_ is more human than you. _Chalk-Talk_ was more human than you. You'd better eat up, Jackass. I hate feeding the pet rat."

"You shouldn't keep wild animals in cages, Rodimus." Witwicky picked up the sandwich. "You could just let me go. You'd never see me again."

"Well, that's neither a guarantee nor a brilliant idea," Rodimus wanted to leave but he just had to have the final word. "If I were to let you go, it'd be into an incinerator."

Daniel smirked. "So you plan to execute me after all."

"Yeah, well, Someone intelligent once said destruction of evil is not evil. Wipe your ass on _that_ one, Daniel." Rodimus headed for the door and opened it when Daniel rattled is cage.

"I don't want to live like this anymore!" he shouted. "It's not fair!"

Rodimus allowed himself a small smile. "I know." And he left the bay.

Roddi entered the kitchen and snooped around for something to drink. He settled for a glass of tea and aimed to leave when he spotted Pissant at the table, chewing on a piece of fruit.

Prime detoured and set his tea on the table. "I don't suppose you're in the habit of apologizing."

Pissant stared and slurped fruit skin. "Apologies are what is offered when guilt and regret are involved with one's words or actions, Jackass. I neither regret nor will I apologize."

Rodimus took three seconds to keep his simmering temper from erupting. "What is your play, anyway, Pissant?" He did not like the snail's smile.

"The 'play'? _My play_? Well, it's all about Galvatron, of course."

Rodimus so did not expect that. "What?"

"My terms of conducting business. Pet-for-pat."

"What the heck does that have to do with Galvatron?"

"Everything. I didn't want him to think he was abducted. So, at the right moment, I brought all of you here."

Rodimus narrowed his eyes. "You know, one lovely thing about being a Prime is an outstanding memory. Unless, of course, there's a distraction. So, as I recall, Rain mentioned you were jonesing for some sort of power source. What are you after?"

Pissant sighed with all the drama of a teenage girl. "How about I re-establish a communications link between you and the girl-"

"Her name is Rusti." Roddi growled.

"-and you can ask her personally."

Again Roddi's memory kicked in. "She called you 'Primacron'."

"That's right."

"And you're under a curse."

"Front seat in the classroom, Rodimus."

"So... this power source is supposed to undo the curse?"

Pissant feigned surprise. "How about that? the Tin Woodsman can put things together!" Pissant wiped fruit droppings off his neck and made his way down the table. "And before you ask, yes. Galvatron is the only one who can get the power source. Why? Because he's a Decepticon. And he is not of Primus. And he is not of Quintesson like Megatron was. Megatron; a Quintesson horror story if there ever was one. But before him, Psyklenox. And before you accuse me of activating the Virus, let me say it is more likely Psyklenox's life force frequency is responsible for Desolate's presently perturbed state. Could I do something about it? Likely. Will I? No. Because I don't care."

Rain. Sweet, silly Rain, entered the kitchen. Rodimus was glad to see someone he trusted. "Morning, Weeners," she said in passing. "Did Bookworm stash some leftovers?"

"Would I know?" Pissant sneered. "Would I care?"

Rain feigned surprise. She gasped. "Oh look! _Salt!_ My best friend!"

"You wouldn't DARE!" Pissant growled.

Rain peered round the corner with a closed hand. She opened it and blew salt at the table.

Pissant looked like a clown when his face expanded in terror. The snail vanished. Rodimus bowed over and could not stop laughing.

Rain introduced the kitchen to Rodimus. She explained why some cups were meant for some drinks and not others. She taught him how to make a cold ayther sandwich. Rodimus learned he did not like the grey sandwich spread. He did not care whether or not it added hair to his body.

Rain found another can of pugs stashed in the back of a cupboard. She sighed and apologized to Bookworm. Not that he was there to protest.

Rain packed a tray with their edible treasures and led Roddi to the A/V room. Rodimus followed, hoping she'd not make him watch a teary-feely movie.

Rain told the room to make a cozy table for two. They plopped onto a pile of pillows while Rain programmed the TV.

"News?" she asked.

"How old?" Roddi countered. "And why news?"

"Cuz it's Mechlatex."

Rodimus blinked. "You can get TV stations from the planet?"

"There's only one station, but yeah."

"One station?" Rodimus scoffed. "Sounds boring."

"Owned, controlled and run by the Regime. All the propaganda you could ask for."

"Prop-and-ganda, eh?" Rodimus devoured two bites of his sandwich. "I can just picture their movies," he said around his food. "Ghostbusters 14: The Regime Strikes Back. Life Is an Armory; It's Just a Matter Which Weapon Will Kill You First. Psyklenox: Just When You Thought Dictatorship Was a Good Idea. Lord of the Despots. The Good, the Bad and the Megalomaniac."

Rain stared at Roddi who lost his mind. "What are you spouting?"

"Movie tittles," Rodimus face-palmed. _"Earth_ movie tittles," he amended.

"It's hard living in a foreign society," Rain said sympathetically. "Everyone thinks you're a complete psycho until you learn a little culture."

Rodimus lost his smile and tugged it back on but half way when Rain looked concerned. "I won't be seeing you again when we leave," He choked up when she solemnly nodded. Rodimus stared at his partially-eaten sandwich. "You know, it hit me. I don't have any friends. I don't really have anything outside my desk. Well," he digressed, "there's _Magnus_. But that's an occasional stress relief." Roddi swallowed his sob story and pinned his eyes on the ceiling. "And, there's _Albert_. But he's not-he doesn't move in the same circles as me. He's sorta one-track minded."

Rain nodded. "You really need to see a specialist, Rodimus."

"Great. Any suggestions?"

"Nope." Rain turned the TV on. "But I'll keep an eye out for one."

"... _audrive held the western front during the unlawful uprising against the Regime last night. Sources state twenty-three suspects have been apprehended and interrogated. Crews have worked thirty-one hours to restore order."_

 _SGT. PRADU DURIM:_

" _We have apprehended nine suspects but we lost seven good officers in the process. Those were good, loyal people."_

 _A late-night train from Soberton passed through Cetus City with no incident._

 _Governor Augvahn of Obdob City has declared it illegal to spit on the ground. She says such an act is agitating the soil, contaminated by chemicals and Metaxan waste."_

Rodimus dozed, though his mind did not drift far from the newscast. _Need to get to Earth,_ he told himself. _Need to get back and eradicate-_

"Hey."

Rain's voice forced his eyes open Rodimus stared Forward, too comfortable to move.

"Did you want me to feed that pet rat of yours? Or do you feed him only once a day?"

Rodimus grunted. "Do we have to feed him at all? How about sending him a care package parcel-post? Or- _or_ maybe we can talk Jackson into doing it."

Rain stared from under her brows. "Doubtful, Roddi."

"Really? You don't think I can get him to do it?"

"I don't think he'll do anything for you."

"Wanna bet?"

"Bet? You mean wager?" she asked. "Like what?"

"Umm..." Rodimus thought of the nastiest job he could make her do. "Laundry. And I like my underwear _pressed_ , thanks."

Rain squinted one eye. " _Laundry_? That's it?"

"Yeah. What more is there? Got something worse in mind?"

"I do. But if you want laundry-"

"No, no. Let's hear it," Roddi insisted.

"Uh-uh," she countered. "We'll play it your way."

Jackson glared at Rodimus with steel eyes and a curled lip. "Does it look like I'm wearing a zookeeper uniform?"

"It's a _rat_ ," Rodimus lied. "Not Godzilla."

Jackson pointed with a rude finger. "At least _that_ is something I understand. But the answer's the same."

Rodimus feigned disappointment. "Come on! Look just do me this solid a-a-and I'll make sure Galvatron behaves more civil in your direction."

"I don't need help dealing with Galvaton."

"Oh really?" Roddi challenged. "Your jaw's still black and blue from the last time he found a reason to punch you. Face it, Jacks. Galvatron is _way_ not so fond of you."

Jackson scoffed and wiggled his aching jaw back and forth as if to make sure it still worked. "You're a jackass, Rodimus," he snarled.

"Guilty as charged. You'll do it, then?" And there was the look Rodimus waited for. Jackson sulked but nodded.

Jackson Cyclonus entered the large, cold storage bay and found Daniel. "You've got to be stringing me," he scoffed. " _You're_ the rat?"

Witwicky's eyes smoldered. "Expecting a mail-order bride?"

"Maybe. But you're too far on the ugly-mug meter to be of interest for me."

Witwicky pursed his lips before relaxing his expression. "You didn't spit or poison the food, did you?"

"No. But Rodimus Prime may have."

Witwicky scoffed and double-ckecked his sandwiches. Three large bites later he realized Jackson stared at him. "What?"

"You're as much a prisoner here as me."

Daniel stopped chewing and stared. "What? What are you talking about, Cyclonus?"

"Jackson. _Jackson_ Cyclonus. I'm not the person who's supposed to own this body."

Witwicky smirked. "Okay. Did Prime tell you to say that? Sounds like something he'd do."

"No. They think there was a cosmic accident."

Witwicky glared with confusion before cracking into laughter. "I needed a good laugh. Translation?"

Jackson rolled his eyes and briefed Daniel on the situation. Witwicky ate noisily and licked his fingers. But he listened with interest while the backside of his mind formulated a plan, scratched it out and formulated another. "Tell you what:" Daniel said before Jackson left, "You bring me a data pad or some other small electric device that will connect and communicate with another device-could be as simple as a remote control or a flat phone-and I'll help you find a new road to freedom."

"Uh-huh," Jackson responded. "And what's in it for you?"

"The satisfaction knowing I have screwed the Autobots again."

" _Let's play a game_."

Rodimus sat at a child's table similar to Rusti's little table when she was four. The small chair under him held his weight better than he expected. Pissant, now human-sized, sat across the table and used telekinesis to pour them both hot tea.

Roddi stared at the blue plastic ware Rusti loved so much. "Not into playing anything with you," he told the snail.

"Oh, but you'll love this, Rodimus!" the mollusk patronized. "I call it 'Obliterate My Reality'. I will invent a universe complete with creatures and histories and you invent something cosmic to annihilate it."

Rodimus folded his arms. "You're an ass, Pissant."

"A title I proudly wear, I assure you."

"Is that what you told the Council of Zhat-At-Taut?"

Pissant clicked his tongue and sipped tea from the tiny cup. "Not only did you mispronounce the name, you misspelled it."

"Gimme a break," Roddi groaned.

"The Council of _Zha-Tat-Tauch_ do not care what I do with my time so long as I keep my slime to myself. I have dared go so far as to invent new and exciting ways to irritate, annoy and torment people. And get away with it."

Rodimus pretended not to listen. "Did you poison the tea?"

"I would _liked_ to have poisoned it, Rodimus Prime. But your illness and/or death currently serves no other purpose but to amuse me."

Rodimus grunted and sipped the teeny cup of sweet lemon tea.

Pissant continued: "That and I fear your _Vyrestix_ would be put out."

"You're right. Op wouldn't approve. He'd invent twenty different ways to kill you and bring you back to life to kill you all over again."

"Do you _really_ believe that? Come now, Rodimus..." Pissant chuckled as he turned black. His form expanded and stretched until Desolate sat before Rodimus.

Prime swore. "You learn fast."

The Virus poured Itself more tea. "DEMIGOD SENDS BEST WISHES."

Rodimus glowered.

 **-INCLINATION-**

Rusti and Galvatron returned to their own motel room. She plopped on the bed she and Prime claimed and reached for the book. Galvatron dropped on his own bed, removed his eye visor and stared at the ceiling. The room's quiet filled the space between them. Rusti read page after page of history. Names, dates, places and events ran through her head much like Earth's own history except on a greater scale. The Regime clearly wrote history in its own favor. But between the lines, tales of disasters and the fall of nations and races screamed of injustice and all pointed bloody fingers at one person.

By page forty, Rusti peeled her eyes off the book. Something sinister was happening. How could this ruler who controlled millions of light years of space not know his own home world had been invaded?

Psyklenox _had_ to know the  Infraction and his crew and company were there! And if that were true, why would he allow them to travel so freely across the land?

Rusti considered packing their things, find the rest of their group and insist the all return to the Infraction. She closed the book. The more she pondered the unusual or unnatural ease by which they traveled in a well-guarded world where privacy was non-existent, the stronger her suspicions banged at the doors of commonsense.

She set the book on the night stand and slid her legs off the bed. An image blinked behind her eyes and she flinched. Confused, Rusti scanned the room, half expecting a specter or ghost hidden within a crevice or shadow.

What was it? The image came and vanished so fast, she failed to form a solid identity. Maybe it was nothing. Nothing at all.

Galvatron awoke to a world frozen in silence and stillness. He sat up and found Rusti sitting on the other bed. "Did you say something, Mizz Rusti?" he asked politely. He grew confused when she did not notice his awareness.

Movement to the left caught the Decepticon's watchful eye. A shadowy figure strolled through the front door and stood at the foot of Galvatron's bed. A face with bland, nondescript features stared at Galvatron with blank, stoic eyes. A shimmering golden robe sheltered the figure's ghostly form.

Galvatron, being Galvatron, noticed only the stranger's bald head. The Decepticon subconsciously wiped a hand over his own hairless pate.

"You're not the Matrix Virus." he stated.

" _No_." the non-gender voice accompanied the sound of gentle winds. Galvatron motioned to speak again but the ghost broke the silence first. _"Galvatron. I waited galactic years for you_."

Galvatron did not breathe. "I know. I _know_ you. I _know you._ "

" _Rrouzhaunt Dak Aouadune_."

Galvatron's lungs remembered how to work. "Yes. Yes." The profound moment left him wordless. " _Zh'Xn_ "

" _Tell of this, Galvatron: do you think it takes evil to destroy evil_?"

Galvatron did not hesitate to reply: "Zero canceling zero does not make it a one." Galvatron pondered the principle verses what the entity said. "Is it that you are suggesting I am no better than Megatron; that Megatron still exists?"

"Not in the least. Take it as a warning. Final message, Galvatron. Out of the aberrancy of Skorponok, the Most High will bring you a new people."

The moment changed.

"... _alvatron!_ _Are you all right_?"

Rusti stood over him, concern creased her face. She laid a hand over his smooth forehead. "Galvatron?" she repeated.

"Ugh-erhm," disoriented, Galvatron struggled to say something. "Y-yes."

"You were dreaming. No fever. Are you hungry?"

"Does Prime put up with this?" Galvatron slapped his own face. "That's not what I meant, Rusti. I'm sorry."

"Shut up. Are you hungry?"

"Yes." Relief touched him when she smiled. Rusti was a kind girl and the Decepticon considered her kinder still when she handed him a plate of edibles.

She sat on the other bed and sank her teeth into a brown bun. "Are you okay?" she repeated.

Galvatron chomped on a crunchy white vegetable. "No," he answered deadpan. "I am confused. Something is happening to me. I hear music and I spoke with an entity I never met before but I know who and what it is."

Rusti ate two bites of pickled fowl before answering him. "I've had that happen to me."

"You have?"

"Mmhmm. I was dying. And an entity came to my rescue."

"It did?" was it... malicious?"

She smiled and shook her head. "No. It was Pyrzhak That Chamryson."

"Pyrzhak..." Galvatron winced. "The Matrix?" Rusti nodded slowly and he wagged a finger at her. "That explains a great deal about you, Mizz Rusti." she smiled, pleased. Galvatron nodded. "Now, then, what are you reading that's important enough for you to re-reread it again?"

"I'm memorizing, Galvatron. This book will not only get us home, it'll help us to get to Earth by any one of five jump gates."

Galvatron stared trying to guess. "Which Earth gates, Rusti? The Bermuda Triangle or the Zone of Silence in Mexico. Wait. You said five."

Rusti tapped the book. "These gates are located in space, Galvatron. And they're not recently manufactured gates; I think they've been around a lot longer than humans have been on Earth. I can't even annunciate their names."

Galvatron silently invited her to hand him the book. She obliged and sat at the edge of his bed.

The Decepticon's red eyes scrutinized one page after another until he reached the fold-out map. Sliding his butt aside to make room for her, Galvatron laid the map before the both of them. "You are correct, Rusti," he affirmed. "These gates are indeed ancient. This one here," he pointed to a mark sitting between a large sun and two planets, "this is not Quintesson, it's _Valentelepine_. And this is written in Jelfathan. But these," he traced the Perseus Arm of the Milkyway Galaxy, "these are Quintesson four-tier marks. It may explain how Cybertron ended in this sector."

Rusti tilted her head, confused. "What do you mean?"

"Cybertron is a rogue planet. No one knows its base origins. For millions of years it revolved around this sector."

"Before it was brought to Earth?"

"Exactly."

"So, I was right; the gates here can and do correspond to the Sol System."

Galvatron grinned. "Optimus said you were smart." Rusti shared his grin, amused and pleased. The Decepticon looked up. He scanned the room as if expecting trouble.

"What is it?" Rusti worried about his off-kilter moods of late. At first she guessed it was all about Cyclonus. But at this moment, she admitted her misgivings. "Galvatron?"

"Do you hear that?" it's the Music. It's clearer. I swear I could almost touch it. He met her concerned eyes and stood. "I have to go, Rusti. The Music is _here_. It calls and I must answer."

Rusti stared out the corner of her eyes. "Hwy would something like that be in this town? Is it coming from the lake?"

"Eh?" Galvatron's confusion melted into a smile. "No, Dear. It's on the planet. North of us, to be more precise."

She blinked slowly. "And you're going to get there how?"

"Hitchhiking?"

"You make my brain hurt, Galvatron. No one will give you a ride. This isn't the Outback."

Galvatron waved her off. "I'm a resourceful mechanism. I'll find a way."

"You should not go. And you should not go by yourself."

The humanoid Decepticon folded his arms. "I'm a sturdy fellow. I can take care of myself.

"Nuh-uh." she objected. "What part of 'not-by-yourself' do you not get? I'm coming with you."

"Optimus Prime will kill me if anything so much as _looks_ at you wrong."

"Optimus will find me. He may not always find you, Galvatron. And you are not going anywhere alone."

He mustered an apologetic smile. "You are sweet, Rusti. But if you follow me, I will have to tie you up so you'll stay safe."

She eyed him, doubtful and determined. "That is not going to hold me, Galvatron. I will _not_ lose you."

Galvatron stared, suspicious. "Who's speaking to me: you or the Matrix?"

Rusti opened her mouth to answer then stopped with a glaring surprise. "Uh-hu." Galvatron winked. "Not nearly as thick-headed as Magnus and Cyclonus think I am."

Rusti drew a deep breath. "Both," she replied. "I am coming with you."

"You don't know where I'm going."

"I don't care."

He shook a finger at her. "You've never seen Prime angry. Believe me: it's worse than..." Galvatron winced. "I am not comfortable with the idea of putting you in danger."

"And I appreciate that," she responded. "Now let's go before you invent a new way to do something stupid. Let me at least leave a note."

"Very well. I will use the bathroom."

Rusti scribbled a note and drew hearts and flowers around the paper's edges. Maybe they could stop and ask Optimus to go with them. She blinked. Didn't Galvatron mention the Bermuda Triangle? She reached for the book and its treasure of maps. Tracing the five major gates from the Metaxan System to the Sol System, Rusti found one gate did, indeed, lead straight to the Bermuda Triangle.

Galvatron exited the bathroom and slipped out his T-shirt. Rusti bit her lower lip. It wasn't fair how attractive the Autobots were. Like Optimus, Gavaltron's body was finely chiseled. He opened his duffle and strapped on a light armor vest, a long sleeved shirt over that and a light jacket over that. Rusti double-checked her xeno-geographical calculations.

Galvatron snapped his jacket sleeves together and turned to her. "What happened to the communication between you and the Primes, Rusti?"

"Hm?"

"You don't seem to mentally connect to Rodimus or Optimus anymore."

Rusti lowered the book with a thoughtful but saddened gaze. "I don't know for sure. I think it was the Q-Virus. I think it broke something in me when I was dying."

Galvatron froze, stunned. "You were dying?"

The subject still burned. The memory of Bare Anches carried a pain so deep, Rusti did not think it would ever heal. "Nothing evil touches is ever the same."

Galvatron planted hands on his hips and sighed with all the air in his lungs. "You are correct. I can't leave you behind."

Rusti took her turn in the restroom. She handled business and changed her clothes. "How about we find Optimus and get him to come with us?"

No answer.

Rusti ran a brush through her flat hair. "Galvatron, did you hear me?" She opened the door. "I said, Optimus-" an empty motel room greeted her in silence.

With a four-letter word on her lips, Rusti stashed all necessities in her bag. She flew out the door, stopped short, returned to the room and grabbed a pen, a notepad and extra change from Prime's duffel bag.

"They're all going to be death of me," she muttered. Racing to the street, she cast her gaze left then right.

Galvatron said north.

Rusti popped her head into the motel office. "Excuse me, which way is north?"

A right turn and two blocks later, Rusti spotted Galvatron examining a small automobile. She raced to catch up. "What the hell do you think you're doing? You agreed-"

"Only the highest of classes or the wealthy could afford this." Galvatron said offhanded. "It is likely that strange mechanism is armed with an anti-theft system."

"You're worse than a toddler!" she waited a second for a reply. "Galvatron!"

"Eh? What? You spent too much time in the bathroom."

"Galvatron!"

He met her eyes and held his arms out. "I can't help it. The Music is calling."

Rusti sighed and handed him her bag. "Let me talk to it."

"Naturally," the Decepticon donned a dose of sarcasm in his voice. "You speak to space ships. An automobile ought to be a glass of giggles."

Ignoring him, Rusti approached the vehicle and tried to read it before laying hands on its clean white surface. "It has an integrated mapping system," she reported. "I don't understand the power source but..." she turned eyes on her companion. "It seems to like you, Galvatron."

"You're bluffing." he frowned. "And you're driving."

"I don't have a driver's license nor do I know what their road rules are."

"Don't care." the Decepticon slipped into the passenger's side and adjusted the seat for his height.

"Can't say I didn't warn you," she muttered.

 **-INCLINATION-**

 _Rodimus walked along the barren parched land. The pattern of cracked ground indicated a large river once flowed there._

 _Northwest, Rodimus repeated. Northwest. Ever going northwest. Fine sand caved under his feet. Dirt everywhere. Dirt filled every crevice and seam of his body. The dry heat burned his wax coating and left his exostructure vulnerable to erosion one sub-atomic layer at a time._

 _There it stood, waiting for him with indifference. Roddi stood at the place of the Gravestone. The same dead tree branched out with brittle twigs and thirsty limbs. The dead forest stood aloof and silent. Nothing living dared enter the forest or the desert. Dark clouds hovered now. But Rodimus never saw rain._

 _The gravestone's surface changed with the fade and reappearance of alien words and sentences. Rodimus never paid the gravestone much attention. All it did was remind him of sad things._

" _WELCOME."_

 _Prime did not need to turn about face to see Desolate behind him. "I am not here for you," Roddi said._

" _HERE. ANYWAY."_

 _Rodimus grunted. When he spotted a familiar figure approach the dead oasis, Roddi went to greet him._

 _Optimus appeared weary but glad to see him._

" _I'm sorry, Op," Rodd's heart hurt. "I couldn't keep it at bay. Desolate..." the Second Prime choked on frustration and shame. "Desolate... sometimes I think I'm the wimp between us."_

" _You are not, Rodimus," Optimus said with a hand on his friend's shoulder. "Both of us carry a demon within."_

" _Yeah," Roddi's frown deepened. "Well, mine escaped."_

 _Optimus clenched a fist. "Cloudstreaker's in trouble," he reported._

 _Desolate stood behind the Senior Prime. Its form grew and grew as if to town above the atmosphere. Rodimus froze and tears escaped his control. "So am I," he wept._

 _Desolate shoved Optimus aside and opened Its mouth to swallow Rodimus whole._

Rodimus shot straight up from sleep and found himself standing on his bed. He panted as his heart raced, his eyes blinked from one corner of his quarters to another like a camera. He startled when his door buzzed.

"Who's there?!"

The door muffled Rain's patient voice. "We got trouble, Roddi," she said. "Jackson's gone."

Rodimus shoved Daniel outside the chainlink wall of his prison. The ugliest, meanest expression twisted Prime's face. "YOU!"

Witwicky lost wind but recovered and laughed. "What's a matter, Roddi-poo? Did you lose a wannabe Decepticon? Hmm?"

Rodimus let him drop and Witwicky clattered like a collection of cast iron skillets. The Autobot leader stepped back to regain composure. "I should have realized you and Jackson would pal-up. After all, you're poured from the same brew. But did you _really_ have to help him escape, Dan-o? Really?"

Witwicky collected himself and glared at a dent in the metal on his right arm. "Yeah, well, what's done is-"

"DO NOT FINISH THAT." Prime said darkly. "I think, Daniel, I have reached the end; the last chain link."

From her post at the door, Rain unfolded her arms, "We might be able to locate Jackson but it'll be risky to retrieve him."

"Risky' is my alternate name," Roddi snarled. He looked to her with measured hope. What did you have in mind?"

Before she answered Daniel tackled from the left. Rodimus slammed the ship's metal floor as if a wall fell on him. Daniel punched with a metal fist. Bruise. Bruise. Cut. _Crunch_.

Upper jaw cracked.

Pain impaled his brain and Rodimus faded out.

 _The world moved on. Rain rebuked Daniel and charged to protect Rodimus. They wrestled over Rodimus' fallen form. Roddi saw and heard everything as if he were underwater. He climbed toward consciousness then fell back._

 _And back._

 _And down_.

" _T'was late in the wrokan when I first zorfed you."_

 _Rodimus sneered. "If I am dead and gone, let it stay that way."_

 _She replied in tones of admonishment, speaking words that made less sense than a fairy tale._

" _Forget it," Roddi replied. "I don't wanna think about it."_

 _Somewhere to his right a feminine voice called. "Rodimus, this way."_

" _I'm in the middle of a bizarre conversation."_

" _No, Rodimus, you have slipped between two dimensions. Come this way. Come home to me."_

" _Rain?"_

 _He faced right and found Planet Mechlatex where it hung in space. It gleamed with beauty the likes of which Roddi never imagined._

" _I remember now. Alpha Trion murdered me and wiped out all of Cybertron. Unicron decimated Cybertron and we fell to extinction. And it's happening all over again. Mechlatex, what am I supposed to do? Why am I here? Why do I keep coming back to this?"_

 _At first only the dead silence of empty space answered Rodimus. Frustration and anger turned to disgust. Then everything tumbled into pale hope when Mechlatex answered._

" _Greater grace, Rodimus. Mistakes were made grievous, destructive mistakes. Someone must set them straight. The Quintessons' judgement is at hand, Rodimus. That is why you are here."_

Rodimus returned to reality, the present moment and gulped air. He sensed Rain to the right, Daniel on the left. Witwicky leaned across Prime's fallen form and choked Rain toward death. With every ounce of strength, Rodimus broke Daniel's grip.

Rain dropped like a rock, inhaled and coughed hard.

Rodimus ducked when Daniel swung a left-cross. Witwicky aimed to jab Roddi's chest. Because Daniel's strike went wide, Rodimus caught him off guard with a strike to the face-the only part not covered by Daniel's suit.

Witwicky did not lose his balance but surprised by Roddi's retaliation, he stepped back.

Prime's own body ached from Witwicky's assault. Yet he smiled. Blood from his previous injury trickled from the corner of his left eye and lips, lending him a sinister look. "Dan-o, Dan-o, _Dan-o!_ You are an asshole. How the hell did Netty ever put up with you?"

Witwicky spat a glob of blood at Roddi feet. "She liked it rough." He jerked back when Rodimus slapped him. Rodimus slapped him again. Witwicky drilled into Rodimus with his eyes. "What the hell was that for?"

"It's a love-tap, Dan-o. I wanted to demonstrate my undying loathing for you."

"Well, three words, Rodimus: mutually Assured Contempt."

For Rodimus, the universe shifted into surrealistic slow-motion kike the stroke of an ink pen. Reality jumped off the tracks as a time ripple blew through the Infraction.

 _Galvatron, held prisoner by Psyklenox, counted himself in dire trouble._

 _Rusti stood at the top of a hill. Her eyes searched the heavens for the_ _Sagittarian_ _Mozart_ _._

 _His mind raced back and back, like a researcher digging through history._

 _He remembered sitting in Ultra Magnus' neat-freak office._

" _You said you'd talk to him, Rodimus."_

" _Don't preach at me, Magnus. I don't belong here anymore than a Decepticon. I want you to send me back to the asteroid."_

" _I can't."_

" _Why not?"_

" _Because it's been destroyed." Magnus' frown dragged by the seconds._

 _Disgusted, Rodimus jumped from his chair. "Well, what the Pitt am I supposed to do? Your Prime won't talk to me."_

" _Join the club."_

" _Hu?"_

 _The mentally stagnant, stoic city commander stood and tucked two datapads into a file cabinet. "Optimus Prime doesn't talk to anyone. He has no personal relationships with anyone. So save your sob story for the pub._ " _Magnus slammed the cabinet's drawer and paused._

 _Rodimus read the commander's body language and caught the sadness under the major-general's outward frustration. "Was he always this way?"_

" _Is anyone?" Magnus returned._

" _What happened to him?"_

" _You'll have to ask him."_

" _God dammit, Magnus!" Rodimus exploded. "Stop treating me like an outsider!"_

" _Then stop acting like one!'_

 _They faced one another with growing tempers._

 _Magnus dispelled the heated silence. "He isn't supposed to be alive! And now that Hot Rod is dead, congratulations on taking his place!"_

" _I DIDN'T ASK FOR THIS!" Rodimus settled minutely. "Whatever happened, whatever the Quintessons did was pure accident."_

 _The air evaporated between them and Ultra Magnus' temper did the same. "I know," he said sadly. "And I'm sorry. But what do you want from Prime? What do you expect from him?"_

" _Some form of recognition! He's not the only Prime here. I need something to do! And it needs to be more than playing traffic cop!" Rodimus paused. "There is something off about him. Not bad-bot off. Just... something under the surface."_

" _You're speaking to the city commander." Magnus snorted. "Don't assume I haven't noticed."_ _He watched Rodimus spin in his chair. "Look," Magnus continued, "I am not intuitive. I rely on data and communication from others. I don't' have Prime instincts. If you want to talk to Prime, you need to think like one."_

" _He won't. Talk." Rodimus growled._

 _Then maybe you need to listen. Just. Listen." the city commander returned to his chair and picked up a fresh digipad._

 _Rodimus did not need to be told the conversation was over. He headed for the door then stopped when Magnus added one more thing:_

" _He likes to play basketball and he usually plays alone. In the middle of the night."_

 _Let me repeat it: when everything goes completely wrong, events, situations and conditions are rewritten so that there is more right than wrong._

 _... it started with a bizarre event followed by an unrecoverable catastrophe._

 _Rodimus blinked while the world hung suspended; time held its breath. One inexplicable phenomenon followed another like a multitude of car crashes on an icy highway._

 _Rusti wasn't supposed to exist. Optimus should have stayed dead... Galvatron should have been dead._

" _Quintessons_ ," Rodimus whispered. Everything leading to this moment and thereafter backlashed; a cosmic retaliatory strike against a species of demonic criminals.

The moment ended when Daniel's form faded into view. His arm raised in slow motion. Atop his wrist sat a makeshift laser weapon. It discharged but the shot flew slow enough for Rodimus to dodge. Without a thought, Roddi pointed to Witwicky and the delinquent flew off his feet and slammed against the far wall.

Witwicky screamed, terrorized then angry. "YOU CAN'T DO THIS! HOW-"

Rodimus smiled lightly. "Kup always said I was slow in the uptake. Guess you bring out the best of me after all, Dan-o. I shouldn't be so surprised, however. If Rusti can do it... well, you know."

Rodimus looked to Rain as Daniel, now firmly plastered to the wall, started to rotate like the second hand on a clock. "We need to get to Jackson ASAP."

"What's an ASAP?"

"As Soon as Possible."

Rain's lips puckered slightly and her eyes dropped to the right. "We can't move the Infraction; we'll attract too much attention. But we do have one-person transports."

Daniel screamed in anger and blathered threats as he ticked upside down; moving toward the seven o' clock position.

"That might work," Rodimus affirmed. "But we need to stay as back-road as possible. We're going after Jackson. I don't want to follow him into dangerous places."

Rain pointed to her head as Daniel rotated to nine o'clock. "Very wise," she praised.

Rodimus smiled as Daniel ticked eleven o'clock before he dropped off the wall with a four-letter word.

Rain did not understand Roddi's peculiar word for the single-person transport. 'Motorcycle' did not apply to a vehicle that did not use a motor. And 'bike' made her eyes roll because it sounded far too trite for their favorite form of mobility. However, her heart, warmed by his enthusiasm, swelled with pride; she put them together herself.

Rain secured enough food and medical supplies for three days. Rodimus entered the docking bay with Daniel walking stiffly behind. She glowered at the soulless monster behind Prime. "Why are you bringing him?"

Roddi pointed a thumb over his shoulder. "He needs a change of scenery, some fresher air. Besides, he helped Jackson out, he can help us get him back."

Rain frowned, doubtful of Roddi's idea. She shook her head. "You're the Prime."

Rodimus grinned.

Using a gadget Bookworm constructed long ago, Rain selected Cyclonus' bioelectric patterns and followed the neutrino trajectory in a parallel course between fifty and sixty miles away. After all, Roddi wanted to track the body-snatching dick, not follow.

Her idea of a parallel course was a good one. Rodimus called her a genius and she thought it was sweet until Roddi started to sing:

 _Well the truck stop cutie comin' onto me_

 _tried to talk me into a ride, said I wouldn't be sorry._

 _Oh, but she was just a baby._

 _Well, waitress pour me another cup of coffee_

 _pop me down, jack me up, shoot me out flying down the highway._

 _Looking for the morning._

 _Oooh, I'm driving my life away, lookin' for a better way, for me._

 _Ooh "I'm driving my life away,_

 _lookin' for a sunny day._

Rodimus laughed at her expression. "Eddie Rabbitt." he explained. I'm not all that country, but you know, there's something good in all genres." It warmed his heart when she agreed.

Two and a half hours later they took a short break. They ate and stretched nearby a large tree with metallic leaves shimmering in the light of a clouded sky. Rodimus pretended not to notice when Witwicky stepped away to relieve himself. The Autobot leader inquired the status.

"Yes, he's still moving," Rain reported. "But there's some interference in the trail. I don't think he's alone anymore."

"Military police caught him?"

"Likely so."

"Jackson is not fond of us, Rain. He's a yapper that won't quit."

"That he does."

Rodimus remotely activated the 'speed scraper' (as he dubbed it) and nodded for Rain to get back on the road and wait for him.

Daniel tromped through the dried grass and stopped short when Rodimus aimed a handgun at him. Witwicky turned white as paper.

"This is good-bye, Dan-o," Roddi announced.

"You won't do this, Rodimus!" Daniel's voice pitched with panic. "Optimus won't _let_ you!"

Rodimus tried to hold back laughter. "Dan-o, I assure you as certainly as I am breathing oxygen, Optimus will support my decision. We are, after all, both _Prime_. I'm not going to shoot you, Daniel. But I am going to leave you here to rot. Can't say it's been nice. But... it's been."

Witwicky chased after as Prime headed for the road. "You can't do this!" Witwicky repeated. He ran for them long after they vanished over the horizon. Witwicky dropped to his knees. In spite of the terror of abandonment he was unable to weep. "MAC."

 **-INCLINATION-**

Rusti and Galvatron sat parked in front of a clothing store. They stared two blocks down and five hundred yards thereafter stood a check point; the barrier between them and the highway.

Rusti tapped her thumb against the steering wheel. "We really did not think this through."

"No," Galvatron concurred. "We did not. What do you suggest we do? If we return, I may not have the chance to do what I need to do."

"Well, I'd suggest a rush-em-and-pray tactic, like my grandpa once told me about. But-"

"They have guns."

"Yes." Rusti realized the checkpoint consisted of cameras, computers, all mechanical devices. "Guns are machines," she said to herself.

"Eh?" Galvatron removed his visor and wrinkled his forehead. He thought the statement silly.

Rusti ignored him. "And if the guns are machines, and if they're wearing armor..."

The Decepticon twisted left. A twinkle touched his red eyes. "Miss Rusti, I know you love me. But if you're keeping secrets, I'll never know what to get you for your birthday."

She eyed him, comically perplexed. "Now you're sounding like Optimus, Galvatron."

He grinned.

"Put your belt back on. We're getting out of here." she activated the vehicle and drove forward.

"Have I told you lately that you're my hero?" he joked.

She grinned but kept her eyes on the road. "No."

Galvatron's voice turned serious as he clipped the visor over his eyes. "I love you, Rusti. You've been nothing but kind to me." She patted his leg but said nothing in turn. She did not need to.

As they approached the 400-yard distance, the cameras swivelled to face each other. All checkpoint lights blacked out. The MP's danced out their offices, guns at the ready.

At the two-hundred yard mark, the gates opened and the MP's magically flew through the air and smacked the walls. Their guns floated a minute more before drilling themselves into the ground.

A shiver ran down Galvatron's spine. He removed the visor again and took in everything as they exited the city unimpeded.

Rusti passed the gates slowly then floored it, racing the automobile as if their lives depended on it. Half a mile later, the checkpoint lights regained power. Alarm systems whooped while the MPs dropped to the ground and scrambled to control the situation. But they found their computers, their cameras and electronic doors all fried from within.

Two miles on the road Galvatron recovered from awe and watched the world shrink behind them. "How did you do that?" he asked.

Rusti shrugged. "Um, I just can." she paused. "When I was little, my parents had to let me stay with Optimus and Roddi because the only time I was not sick was when was around them. When I was nine, my stupid brother dosed me with a drug comprised of alien DNA. It messed me up. Later on, I learned to manipulate images on TV and computer screens. Optimus and Roddi would not allow me to play video games because I could not resist the temptation to-as Roddi said-infringe on copyright and break someone else's rules." Rusti pursed her lips. "I learned that I can read and control machines. It's like I can read them as if I designed them myself. When I was nine, I used a motorcycle to leave Central City and make my way back to Fort Max. I really didn't have to think about it. She grimaced and glanced at her companion. "Don't you think that's weird? What's that make me? I play with Dinobots and fall in love with an Autobot..." she shook her head.

Galvatron watched as they passed an empty and parched land. This part of Mechlatex longed for life and beauty.

Rusti was not finished. "When I turned fifteen, the Matrix Virus manifested and infected the city. That was when the Matrix sang to me."

Galvatron's interest burst into astonishment. "How and why did the Matrix show interest in you?"

Should she tell him? Rusti held that secret closest to her heart. "I-I can't tell you that," she replied. She hoped holding a secret would not upset him.

"That's alright," Galvatron waved off. "I do not need to know something that personal."

Rusti smiled. "Thank you."

They traveled an additional three hours before encountering a checkpoint sitting in the middle of nowhere. Rusti slowed the vehicle and waited for lights, cameras and military police. But nothing stirred. No lights. Galvatron and Rusti exchanged a puzzled expression.

They waited until Galvatron spoke: "Let's move forward, Rusti. Go slow, in case we encounter a trap."

Rusti steered the automobile forward. Graffiti scared the walls. Broken windows glared at them. Galvatron spotted skeletal remains of someone's right hand. Laser burns peppered the underpass. Rusti approached half way through then accelerated out and raced three miles before slowing down. She did not need ask what might have happened at the isolated checkpoint; she was relieved to once again escape danger.

They kept to the road an additional three hours when the night stretched shadows across the planet. Rusti forced herself to drive two more lengthy hours before submitting to a much-needed break. She shut the vehicle off. "I have to pee," she announced.

"I shall remain here," Galvatron answered lightly. "Please do not get abducted."

Rusti left the car's headlights on as she stepped out. A chilled and stiff atmosphere gave her the impression the air was dirty.

She returned to the driver's side and shuddered. "It sinks out there."

"Not surprising," Galvatron mumbled. "It's all wasteland. Those hills of dirt out that way cover more than dirt."

Hours of driving through a bleak and vacant landscape numbed Rusti's brain so that she did not understand what the Decepticon alluded to. "What else would it be other than dirt?"

Galvatron grinned. " _Left-overs_ , Miss Rusti. Most likely the same stuff I'm going to leave myself." He cackled and left the car.

Rusti rolled her eyes. "I walked into that one," she muttered. Galvatron returned. Rusti handed him a bottle of water. He rinsed his hands off and closed the door.

Rusti planted her hands on the steering wheel then dropped them. "I'm really tired, Galvatron. We've been on the road for nine hours.

"Nine point six," he corrected.

"Exactly. I need to sleep for a few moments. Unless you'd rather drive."

"No," Galvatron repeated. "If I drive, I will want to fly. And the itch to fly is crawling under my skin like a colony of bees." Rusti could tell the smile in his voice. "Besides," he continued, "you've been upgraded from chaperone to chauffeur."

She slowly blinked. "I am an American, Galvatron. We do taxi cabs."

He smirked. "Works for me. You sleep. I'll be outside."

She thought it gentlemanly of him to give her privacy. "Wake me in thirty minutes." she handed him two packages of food before he departed.

Galvatron ate the colorful snacks with little thought. His mind stretched as far as the road ahead. His destiny teased him like the need to fly. What choices waited for him? Would he get Cyclonus back? His heart hung heavy. They _had_ to get Cylonus back!

A bleak pale light peered through the dusty atmosphere. Surprised to see dawn already, Galvatron watched the sun's scattered light grow from the southeast. But with the light came no sound. No bird or beast, no bugs or other life forms welcomed the yellow-white glow. And the air did not warm.

The light illuminated shapes wrought of death and disaster. The remains of huge ships rose on either side of the highway. They towered thirty, forty feet. Their wings rose out of the ground like manufactured rocks. Refuse clogged and choked the ground; nothing grew. Puddles of quick mud stagnated with humanoid skeletal remains. The graveyard around them contained so much debris and bodies, it appeared more like a museum of gratuitous violence than a reminder of wars fought and lost.

What horror, Galvatron thought, must Psyklenox wield within his own regime. People on the Cygnus space station laughed and played while multitudes suffered and died at the hands of a robotic abomination.

People lived on Mechlatex slaving away for the greater good of an indifferent government. And when Galvatron remembered that the natives of Mechlatex were not permitted to have families, he realized their souls were mere parts of a machine. If one broke, it was replaced.

End of story.

Now he dreaded the next city. He wished for a short and swift resolution; to find and rescue Cyclonus, to find the Automatron, solve his own mystery and get the Pitt out.

How could _this_ be their future home?

For the first time in years, Galvatron's Decepticon-radar rang loud. He searched the sky and sure enough, he recognized the shape of a Sweep. He rushed to the car and opened the driver's side door. "Rusti!" he said with panic.

She sucked in air and winced at the morning light. "Thirty minutes already?

"We need to hide. _Now_. A Sweep is headed toward us."

"What?" Galvatron grabbed her bag and half dragged her out the car. They rushed off the road and under a wrecked ship. Galvatron kept all his senses sharp while she tried to wake up.

The Sweep landed with a loud thump. He walked back and forth until he spoke. "I know you're here, Metaxan! Come out and I will not kill you." a long silence followed before the Sweep spoke again. "Scourge, this is Number Two. Yes. I found a car not four miles outside Laktromycix. It's got plates from... Neugoch. Is that coincidence?" Pause. "No, I see nothing. Of _course_ I looked! How lazy do you think I am?"

Number Two growled and his footfalls stomped around the car. "How does he expect me to find anything in this cesspool? Come out, Metaxan! Come out before I start shooting things up!" Pause. "I'm going to count to ten and if you do not come out, I'll _shoot_ you out!"

Rusti quietly opened her water and drank while the Decepticon counted. The air stank and killed her appetite.

"TEN!" the Sweep declared.

Rusti rolled her eyes and mentally activated the car. The vehicle's alarm screamed and the Sweep squeaked in surprise.

Galvatron smirked and nodded with approval.

The car shut off and remained still.

Because she could not see the Sweep from their location, Rusti did nothing further.

"WHO'S OUT THERE?"

Galvatron knew the Sweeps and their tinfoil leader, Scourge, were a group of bumbling clowns. But he never paid them close enough attention. Cyclonus always kept the ineptitude in line. Was it truly little wonder why he and Cyclonus rarely succeeded when two-thirds of their army suffered from a negative brain cell count? Certainly much of their failures were of Galvatron's own fault; his mind was hung out to dry once Unicron lost his head. Galvatron cursed his own arrogance.

 _Pik-BOOM!_

Rusti gasped with a start.

 _Pik-BOOM!_

Galvatron crawled back and sat beside her. "He's trying to flush us out. Hopefully he'll give up and go face Scourge."

"He's going to _kill_ us!" she hissed.

 _Pik-BOOM!_

 _P-p-p-pik-BOOM!_

Galvatron stared at her and blinked. "No he won't. He's not smart enough to stay here long enough to find something. He's a Sweep."

Rusti let that sink in. "I thought the Sweeps were like a wolf pack."

Galvatron tugged on a light smile. "More like merekats."

Rusti had to cover her mouth and bow over to stifle her laughter.

Just as Gavlatron said, the Decepticon clownoid gave up and shot away. His targets waited fifteen minutes before emerging from the wreckage. Several fires belched smoke across the land. Number Two was anything but subtle.

The little car sat where they left it. Rusti examined the vehicle and counted it fortunate the Sweep ignored the humble mode of transport.

"It's a good thing that imbecile did not crush the car," Galvatron grumbled.

Rusti settled behind the steering wheel. She released her hair from the tie and swiftly brushed it. "Or what? You'd insult him to death? She watched him close the door and squirm until comfortable. She tied back her brown hair."You're not _that_ good, Galvatron."

The Decepticon popped his neck. "Everything I needed to know I learned from Optimus."

Rusti looked doubtful and activated the vehicle. "He's not that insulting." she defended.

"That only tells me you don't know him well enough."

"I've known him all my life." she scoffed. "Now, I've never truly seen him angry. That much is true. But he can be so gentle." Rusti diverted her eyes to the road and bit her lip to keep from weeping. If only Optimus could have been with them.

They traveled in silence. The Decepticon gradually turned restless. He minimized the window then rolled it back up; down, up, down.

"I think there's a radio someplace along the dashboard, Galvatron," Rusti politely suggested.

"Ooh!" he mocked, "Just what I always wanted! Stupidity and nonsense!"

"Sometimes news."

"And wouldn't _that_ be spectacular? All the propaganda I could choke on." the Decepticon pitched his voice high to imitate a female reporter, "Just sit in your car and let me brainwash you with slanted and falsified information. "I will praise Psyklenox while your brain fries."

Rusti's snigger turned to laughter. "Stop."

"I could sing," Galvatron offered instead.

"No," Rusti objected. "Do NOT sing."

"You think I'm going to break into a bad song?"

"No. I just don't want to hear the wail of a dying walrus." she skipped a beat then added: "Rodimus can sing. I doubt you can."

"Wait one moment there, Mizz Rusti. I do not know where you got the notion that Rodimus Prime can tell the difference between a melody and a squeaking metal gate. But I've been subjected to Rodimus' disturbing caterwauling. And not one note was on key."

Rusti rolled her eyes. "He can sing." she assured him. "He used to sing me to sleep when I was very young."

"Well," Galvatron huffed, "that explains why your hair is so curly."

A ring accompanied by a flashing red light saved Gavlatron from the wrath of a redhead. Rusti stopped the car and watched the light until a holographic map appeared below the dashboard.

WARNING. CHECKPOINT TWO MILES. PLEASE HAVE ALL TRAVEL AND IDENTITY CARDS ON HAND. TOLL PRICE: NINETY-FIVE STANDS.

Rusti's shoulders sank. "Ohmigod. This is what we get for stealing someone else's car."

"Nonsense," Galvatron waved off. "We just need to charm them. You're good at charming people."

Rusti grimaced. "I don't even know what that means."

"Oh," Galvatron's voice turned serious. "Looks like they've sent a welcoming committee."

"What?" Rusti followed Galvatron's pointing finger to a craft in the sky. It dived like an eagle, aiming for prey.

"Get out of the car!" Galvatron escaped first. But Rusti took an extra second to grab her bag. She dashed to one side of the road, he toward the other as a set of bright lasers burned the ground and blew the car.

Rusti's distance did not avoid the resulting shockwave. She hit the ground and scraped her hands and arms in the gravel. Her eyes shed tears as pain shot from the cuts and scrapes and hit her stomach.

A rough metal hand gripped her entire form and Rusti lost wind.

"You're not a Metaxan!" Number Two sneered. "You're a Human! What's a squishy, stinky Human doing in this sector of space?"

Galvatron's voice rang clear, using his "mighty leader" voice: "WIRE TRAP! Release the female NOW!"

The Sweep gasped, astonished. "How do you know my name?! Who told you my name?"

"Your ancient ancestor, the _Percolator_ told me, you micro moron!

Number Two bent slightly over and held his right hand back as if to keep a toy from a child. The Sweep's movements allowed Rusti a clear view of the checkpoint station. A distortion wave rolled from the horizon. Reality shifted and blurred as the wave headed for them.

"Galvatron!" she shouted, "RUN! RUN!"

The former Decepticon leader noticed her gaze cast north toward the horizon. Then he saw the distortion wave as it hit the checkpoint.

An unnatural scream erupted from the distance. The checkpoint station vanished before the wave crashed upon Rusti, Galvatron and the micro moron.

 **-INCLINATION-**

Magnus exploded out the tavern doors. His targets packed Cloudstreaker into a nearby antigrav vehicle. The Metaxan vehicle veered from the tavern and hovered leisurely. The abductors did not realize they were followed until their vehicle bounced with Magnus' weight when he leapt on the back.

Startled, the driver pushed the sedan into hard drive while one of his cohort twisted half out the passenger window and blindly shot at Magnus.

The Major-general took a slice to his upper right arm as he gripped the roof of the car. Tears flew from his eyes and Magnus grit his teeth.

The jerk with gun twisted round again and hammered Magnus' right hand. Magnus took the pounding while he planned his next move.

Between the car's speed, the wind in his face and the burning pain in his arm Magnus' strength wavered. His hands had been crushed before. But organic life felt pain to a greater degree than he ever assumed. Being squishy-soft was far from advantageous.

The coup de gras: Jerk With Gun cracked the gun against Magnus' skull.

It pissed him off and he roared at the scar-faced trafficker. The vehicle jerked left so hard Magnus lost his hold and flew off. He slammed back-first against a concrete wall and splattered the sidewalk like a dead dog. His visor clattered along the cement.

Magnus counted one number at a time. _Impk. Rov. Stok. Aibu. Tekchak. Pak._ Breathe in. Hold. Breath out. Hold. His head spun. His heart thrummed; a war drum calling for will, self discipline and inner strength forged by millions of years on the battlefield.

By Primus, Magnus was NOT abandoning Cloudstreaker!

 _Chop. S'vet. Opil. Pik. Pak. Tekchak. Aibu. Stok. Rov..._

Magnus pushed up. _Impk._ The fallen visor sat a foot away. Magnus mentally sneered at the 'damn toy'. He stood. "I'm coming, Cloudy," he swore. He staggered at first. Two steps forward. A street light supported weight when his legs would not.

Magnus was not a student of philosophy or superstition but he began to doubt the notion of coincidence when a Metaxan native rode up the street on an antigravity one-person cruiser.

Magnus grinned in spite of pain. "I'm coming, Cloudy."

The cyclist owner didn't surrender his ride easily. Magnus earned bruises on his shins, a swollen bottom lip and a set of bruised knuckles. Even when he explained Cloudy's dilemma, the cyclist refused to comply.

Now the native lay prone on the sidewalk while Magnus searched twenty minutes for the criminals. He tried not to think how auto theft also made him a criminal.

Magnus located the trafficker's automobile as it headed for the exit checkpoint. The same slaghead who tried to gun Magnus down shot two MP's. Each officer took a bullet in the eyes. Magnus seethed and shadowed the faster cruiser beyond the checkpoint, out the city and onto the highway. He wondered why the checkpoint's power was out but Ultra Magnus did not dwell on it.

Cruiser and cycle left dust trails on the road for two hours before Cloudy's abductors yanked the automobile left off the main road. Magnus copied. He ducked and wound this way and that to avoid scrub brush and ancient debris. Fifteen minutes later they led him onto an old road, cracked and weathered from neglect and disuse. The road dipped then rose steadily until it narrowed and squeezed against the lip of a cliff. A nasty hundred-foot drop yawned into a deep canyon on the left. Magnus focused on the car so as not to consider the plunge waiting for new victims.

Ten minutes of hairpin turns ended at the edge of an old ghost town.

Magnus scanned everything as he moved inward. Strange sounds bounced from building to wrecked building. A ghostly figure dashed in and out of Magnus' peripheral vision.

"Not a good idea," he muttered as if speaking to the criminals. Trusting his well-honed instincts, the commander searched the main road, keeping north. He hoped to cut the perps at the checkpoint, if there was one.

Something large and winged dropped from the ruins to his right. Magnus swerved left and kept going. The screech following him signaled trouble and moments later several other creatures rushed to the streets.

Not far from his eleven, the automobile thunked as if something hit it or vice versa. Three structures later Magnus found the getaway car. Its smashed front guaranteed the abductors were going nowhere.

Jerk With Gun stepped out the front seat, his piece trained on Cloudy. Magnus slowed the bike to a standstill.

"That's close enough, hero," Jerk warned. "Give us the bike or the girl dies."

Magnus glowered. "Give me Cloudstreaker and you can have the bike."

"Bike first."

"No."

Jerk raised his eyes to the ruins around them "Do you hear that, Hero? Those are mutants, people cursed by the changing planet. They smell your blood."

"Hand over Cloudstreaker or they'll be smelling yours."

The driver opened his door and staggered out as Jerk opened the back door and dragged Cloudy to her feet. He crushed her with one arm and trained the gun to her head with the other. "Bike." he ordered.

"Girl. First!" Magnus countered. "Or I'll destroy the damn bike and we'll all end up stuck here."

That spoke volumes and Jerk released Cloudy. Magnus retreated from the bike and the driver raced for it.

Cloudstreaker rushed for Magnus as Jerk went for the only working vehicle among them.

But the driver wasn't willing to share. He activated the cruiser and started to drive off. Jerk shot him twice and ran for the ownerless vehicle.

Two creatures savagely pounced upon the driver's body as Jerk sped away.

Magnus steered Cloudy from the gruesome sight as they heard the crunch-snap of breaking bones.

"Car," he ordered simply. The Major-general took the driver's side, Cloudstreaker the passenger's. He studied the dashboard and tried to activate the vehicle as she sat in silent shock.

Magnus tried four times to activate the car. He pounded the steering wheel, frustrated. He sighed and collected himself. Silence turned the vehicles' interior into a tomb. "Any ideas?" he finally asked her. She silently shook her head.

He sighed again. "Come on, Cloudstreaker. You're the genius between us."

"I'm just a techie, Commander." she returned softly.

Magnus was not in the mood to deal with drama. "That's not true," his voice did not convey the cheer he attempted.

She still did not meet his eyes. "You should not have come after me."

Confused, Magnus searched for words. "Why?"

Her answer came strained and even Magnus knew when a girl was about to cry. "Because... you're supposed to keep an optic on Optimus Prime."

The Autobot general tried to keep his voice level. "Parthon and Galvatron are still there-"

"That's not the point," Cloudy returned sternly. She nailed him with teary eyes. "It's just another assignment; a duty _expected_ of you. You have priorities, Commander and I am not one of them."

Yes, he was caught in a moment of drama with an emotional femme. But it still stung when Cloustreaker got out the car and slammed the door. Magnus sighed again. "We don't have time for this," he mumbled. He exited the vehicle and gazed at her over the car's damaged roof. "Cloustreaker, we have no time for this-"

"Sir!" she shouted. "Yes, Sir! I'll get right on it, SIR!"

He opened his mouth to accuse her of petulence. But even he knew better than to say it. Magnus was socially awkward. Not stupid.

Cloudstreaker returned to the front seat and searched every visible pocket and compartment. She tossed out scraps of material, bits of broken plastic and a small flathead screwdriver.

Magnus gave her room to calm down then decided it time to resolve the situation. "Tell me what we need to do."

Cloudy wiped her brow, suddenly contrite of her outburst. "We need to pull the car free." She and Magnus stared at the front end of the damaged vehicle. The rock wall held steadfast while the cheap metal suffered an acute case of 'accordion syndrome.'

How could Cloudy salvage the wreck? Magnus hesitated. One step at a time, he told himself. He leaned against the car's door frame and pushed.

Cloudy spoke with a lighter voice. "Commander is the car in neutral?"

He paused, a little embarrassed. The city commander leaned inside the vehicle, searched and found the gear controls. A lever under the steering column gave him directions and he made the switch. He resumed his position against the door frame and glanced at the femme who took position on her side of the car. "Ready?" he asked her.

They pushed and at first the car did not budge. But with an ounce of extra effort they tugged the vehicle free and rolled it several feet away.

Cloudy studied the front end and tried to lift the bonnet. He joined her and they pushed and pulled with no result. With a frustrated sigh, the femme tech stared at it.

"Seems we need to go on a scavenger hunt, Cloudstreaker," Magnus suggested. He waited while she stared as if mentally kicking the automobile.

The next second, she actually did. Magnus winced because she kicked it hard. The bonnet popped open and the Major-general suppressed his laughter.

"Yes," the femme agreed. "We need tools." Cloudy picked a direction without another word. She took a road one- o'clock of their position. Magnus proceeded to follow.

At first the ruins offered little more than rotting homes and an office with shattered windows.

The further they ventured, the more remnants they found. Old street lights towered above them. Rusted bicycles lay in overgrown yards.

The humanoid Autobots stood in the middle of a street, indecisive and unsettled.

"I'm wondering, Commander," Cloudstreaker said softly, "did the people here abandon the town or were they evacuated?"

The homes offered their former occupants more privacy than the first two villages the group encountered on their travels. The wood-and-metal houses held enough space for two people. Venturing into the nearest home, Magnus led Cloudstreaker into its small yard where two trees kep vigil. "Let's hope the latter, Cloudstreaker," he replied. "Evacuated people leave with basic necessities."

She wordlessly nodded. Cloudy searched the old house's outside while Magnus tore off a branch and stripped leaves and twigs until all that remained was a fork at the top. He examined the area and found a clump of vines at the house's north side. Wrapping the 'fork', Magnus stuffed it with dried grass and dead leaves before adding chunks of green wood between the pieces. He lit the tinder and waited for his homemade torch to stabilize.

Cloudy returned from the other side and pointed in her former direction. "Found an open place, Ultra Magnus. There seems to be quite a few useful items still inside."

They searched the ancient, dusty house. Magnus grew puzzled as they traversed room to room. Photographs, furniture, dishes and clothing occupied a tiny world long since forgotten. The people in photographs did not resemble the current population.

Cloudstreaker made a triumphant cry from the kitchen. Magnus joined her as she tugged a small case from under the sink. The femme opened her new found chest and picked at a few familiar tools and two that not so familiar.

Magnus nodded, glad they found something. He searched cupboards, now humming a jump rope song. He found a pantry closet and grunted at a row of glass jars containing dried and withered mold.

I'm sorry, Cloudstreaker," he said, "Looks like nothing's on the menu."

She did not look him in the eye. "Okay. We may end up spending the night here, anyway."

They tried to make themselves comfortable in the deep dark. But when insomnia got the best of both, Magnus and Cloudy ventured outside.

The lonely town harbored little in creature comforts, or food. They decided to return to the car. Magnus used the last of this three torches by the time they returned. Cloudy set her tools and two steel pipes on the ground and leaned against the vehicle. Magnus made a parameter search and circled the area.

Cloudy rested her eyes at the horizon where the world fell into a deep canyon and rose again along a mountainside. She realized that even should she be able to repair some parts of the vehicle, they still had no power source.

Magnus returned as dawn slowly chased off the night. He brought her water in a clean jar confiscated from the house.

"Is it clean enough?" she asked.

"I filtered it twice. We probably should boil it to be sure."

"We have _lots_ of time to do so," she returned. "I don't know if we can fix this thing. And even if I could, I don't know what its power source requires. It's not self-perpetuating."

"Does it run on fossil fuels?"

"No. I don't think it's electro-chemical." she sighed. "I'm not sure what we're going to do, Commander. We don't know where we are and if we venture out, we'll be vulnerable with no guarantee of resources. We don't know much about the planet. We don't know which botanical are edible and there doesn't seem to be any wildlife."

Magnus tried to smile to cheer her up. "There are other houses and buildings waiting to be explored, Cloudy. We're bound to find something." she did not answer but her troubled expression said everything.

Magnus pocketed his hands and glanced away. Their deserted island situation was not what he looked for when he set out to rescue her. What could he do or say to give her hope? Playing leader really was not helping. Magnus set aside his inner city commander and aimed for a more personal approach.

"Cloudstreaker," he said, "I'm sorry. This wasn't what I had in mind when I came for you. And I'm sorry I have ignored your input." _Not so personal_ , he thought. Magnus dug deeper to find the courage to say what was really on his mind. "I did not notice how you felt about me. I, uh, I didn't think anyone could care about me like you do."

* Her eyes lifted to his face and Magnus tired not to trip over his own words. "I'm not very good at this. At things on a personal level, I mean." he paused and let the truth do the talking. "I don't know _how_. I didn't, I never thought anyone could... love me." There. The secret hung between them like a cold wet towel.

She smiled and Magnus' anxiety eroded. "Relationships aren't magic, Ultra Magnus. They're built over time. They're built on common ground. I admire your strength and poise. And you're very courageous. You've taught me how to be brave. And you came for me. You should be with Optimus but you came for me."

"And I will do it again if I have to," he added.

They searched until night draped over the land. By then Magnus and Cloudstreaker found a suitable place for shelter. An intense scavenger hunt turned up candles made from tree wax. Magnus found a 'fire striker' and to their delight, they discovered a small collection of preserved food.

Magnus unpacked the first of two boxes. He produced a glass jar and pretended to read it. "This one says 'FUBAR ENERGON." He handed it to her as Cloudy laughed. His heart swelled when he realized he made a good joke and she liked it.

"This is... green and grey." he set that beside him. Next jar: "GALVATRON'S UBER-BITCH SPECIAL."

"Oh!" Cloudy blurted, "Let me have that one!"

He obliged and produced the fourth jar. "It looks... _red_." Pause. "Spicy, maybe?"

She batted her lashes. "If that's the case, I'll have to propose a trade."

Tossing the box aside, Magnus planted his jars before him. Cloudy copied. "You open one first," the city commander told her.

Cloudy's blue eyes bounced from one mystery eatery to the other. "This one." she picked up FUBAR ENERGON and tried to open it. And she tried to open it. The third failed attempt left her sighing with frustration. "This flesh-and-calcium existence drives me off the rails, Commander."

"Magnus," the Major-general corrected. "Me too. Humans deal with it because they're born to it." he proffered his hand and she gave him the stubborn jar. Tapping the offensive lid on the cement floor twice, Magnus opened the container with ease. He smiled at her astonished reaction. "I've seen Rusti do it a time or two. Not magic, just a little know-how."

Cloudstreaker shook her head. She tucked a few strands of white hair behind her ear. "Well, I'd like to know how to get back into my own form. I miss flying. I miss being able to shift on a whim. I hate having to wear clothing and brushing my teeth and using the toilet. And I really hate the smell."

Magnus smiled. "Me too. I miss your flying. You're amazing. You pilot better than the Twins drive. And that crazy maneuver you pulled on Cratis, a vertical lift with a twist; it was one of the most beautiful things I'd ever seen."

She blushed brightly and smiled. "Thank you."

"Not at all." Magnus popped a sample from his jar as Cloudy did hers. Both their eyes expanded with surprise. Magnus chewed twice and reached for their only source of water.

Cloudstreaker sucked her cheeks in. She coughed and sputtered. Her eyes watered and so did his.

"WHOA!" they chorused. "You gotta try this!"

Pause. The Autobots crossed gazes, both wiping tears.

Magnus smirked. "I guess yours is as hot as mine."

"Oh no," Cloudy corrected. "This wasn't hot. It's..." she dropped her blue eys, searching. " _Tart_. Yes. It's _very_ tart."

They traded samples and to Cloudy's surprise, Magnus giggled. She ate her sample with caution while the city commander rubbed his cheeks.

"More?" he asked. She obliged him with a grin and proceeded to open the second jar. The two spent another hour trading samples. Cloudy's second jar tasted like dried meat. Magnus' had an earthy flavor that neither of them liked.

"You know, Cloudy," Magnus said after a while, "this situation is almost fun. I'm glad you're sharing it with me."

Her cheeks burned and words failed her. The femme settled against the wall behind her. "I didn't know what happened to me when my body changed. I was so scared at first. I think what I hate about this the most is feeling so small. I'll never look at Humans the same way again. I never realized how well they can adjust to their circumstances.

Magnus nodded and picked at the hem of his pants. "Speaking of adjustment, how fast can you work on the Mozart? We will need to escape within hours upon returning."

Cloudstreaker drew a deep breath and stared into space. "I have no idea, Ultra Magnus. I mean, remember that the Mozart was damaged, not just kicked off-line. If there was a way the ship could repair itself, we could be out of here within hours."

Magnus scowled. 'You're itching to fly. I want to get back to the ship. I don't do nothing very well."

"You would not be a city commander if you weren't," Cloudy answered.

Little by little the two Autobots found a way to get comfortable enough to sleep. Magnus woke every ten minutes and forced himself to return to sleep.

Thunder muttered and woke Magnus up. How many times had he slept-and-woke? Eight? Ten? Thunder echoed over the sky again and the Major-general chose to investigate. He stepped outside as Cloudy came to life. Sunshine beamed weak and grey and illuminated an approaching storm from the...west? Was it west or north?

The cracking sound of breaking plastic proceeded another roll of thunder. The same roll sounded over and over, louder and louder.

Magnus looked left and his eyes practically fell out. A gigantic distortion wave swallowed building, hill and street. The city commander shut the door and leaned against it.

Cloudstreaker stood and wiped her hands of imaginary dirt. Before the first question left his lips the room around them changed from dark, dusty and dilapidated to fresh with new carpeting and photographs on the walls. Magnus and Cloudstreaker turned a 360 and met one another's eyes.

Without word, Magnus stepped out the door and Cloudy followed. The sun shone bright and clear. The ruins vanished as if the Autobots stepped into another world.

"Magnus," Cloudy said with a small voice, "did we just experience a time storm?"

"That would be my guess, yes."

The neighborhood, once dismal and empty, now rejuvenated with small homes, green front yards and children playing in the street. A strange animal with a leather shell ran alongside two humanoid boys like an Earth dog. The front door they stepped out from closed then opened and a child peeked out. The apparent mother whose straight brown hair draped over her shoulders tugged the child in then stared at Magnus and Cloudstreaker with suspicion.

" _Swra loog oph_?"

Magnus: "uhh..."

Cloudy held out her hands, palms spread. She smiled nervously. "Sorry," she said sweetly. She and Magnus slowly withdrew to the curb.

They continued down the street, bewildered and confused. The native citizens watched them, equally confused and puzzled.

Magnus paused at the corner of a four-way street. Hands on hips, he surveyed the new world left, right and straight ahead. 'Maybe we can find the transportation necessary to leave."

Cloudy gazed at him with an inch more hope. "How do you mean?"

"Well, there are garages and we've seen bicycles or a version thereof. Street lights, porch lights... not all that different from Earth's 1960's era."

Cloudy bowed her head with a smile. "Your idea is sweet, Commander."

"But?"

"But we don't speak their language."

Again Magnus turned quiet. He spotted a bus at the far distant left. "We will figure this out, Cloudy. We'll get back to the others." he pointed to a sign that indicated the bus stopped a the next corner.

Aiming for their new destination, Magnus and Cloudy stepped onto the street. She checked to the right, he to the left and took two steps forward.

The world for them tipped and twisted. The houses, the trees and the street shrank and shrank.

Magnus fell forward and caught himself. Cloudstreaker dropped to her knees and bowed over, momentarily disoriented.

Magnus noticed first. He gasped. "I'm an Autobot again!"

Cloudstreaker squealed with glee and they twisted about and hugged each other, laughing with joy.

Magnus shined. "I'll race you out of town." He transformed first, into jet mode and she followed with a joyful burst of engines.

 **-INCLINATION-**

Optimus woke sick and groggy. He sluggishly reached for Rusti across the bed and felt worse to discover her absence. " _Little Bell,"_ he whispered.

The bed dipped to the right. Someone placed a round cold object on his forehead. The Autobot leader tried to focus his blurred vision.

"There he is," said a female with a light and comforting voice. "His temperature is coming down."

Optimus saw a smile; it was not _her_ smile. He flexed his right hand as Rodimus' name fell from his lips.

"I think he will be fine now," the same female declared. "Give him time to pull himself together."

"Thank you, Feffy." Parthon answered quietly.

Optimus' head cleared as the door whooshed open and thudded closed. Parthon dropped into a nearby chair.

A question finally cleared Prime's throat. "What happened? I thought-"

Captain Parthon's answer reflected Optimus' own weariness. "Magnus shot out of the tavern like a woolwrag caught on fire. You passed out. I sent Bookworm and Pipsqueak to the Infraction."

Optimus processed the words and pieced events together with clumsy assumptions. "Dot?"

"She staying with us. She knows Laktromycix better than I and knows Plucky's contact. So there's just the four of us right now."

The Autobot leader tried to sit up. "Where are Rusti and Galvatron?"

"A good question." Parthon produced the piece of paper and offered it to Prime. "Fortunately for you, your wife knows to leave notes. But I can't read it."

Optimus waved the note off, knowing her well enough to know its contents. Parthon slipped the letter into the stolen book and paced twice. "As much as I find your sudden condition inconvenient, Optimus Prime, it has proven advantageous. Your sudden collapse might help us get a free pass straight to Laktromycix."

"How?"

"There's no medical facility here. Anyone of upper-class who is seriously injured is flown to the ward in the capital city. And I daresay, you may have such a condition. Would you not agree?"

"Yes," Prime replied. "It's not contagious, but I will need medical attention."

"Indeed. And since you are under my employment, I will have to be there to handle paperwork and expenses. And of course, I go nowhere without my staff."

Once again, Plucky made all the arrangements. Optimus did not have to fake his symptoms. A nurse from the airlift diagnosed him with some off-world illness and called the condition serious, but non-contagion.

The forty-five minute flight ended with a soft landing. A poke of nurses surrounded Optimus and Parthon. The emergency assembly crammed into an elevator and waited for the right floor. The elevator paused at the eighth floor. The door opened with a ding and one nurse took the first step. Dot blocked her.

"I don't think so, Star Bright. The General's staff deserves better treatment than Level 8." Without permission, the old lady hit button #3.

Optimus slipped into and out of half dreams and half memories. Roddi, he recalled, sat beside him in medbay some years ago. Perhaps during the Virus' first manifestation. The senior Prime struggled to remember exactly when.

 _Dark and foggy memories..._

 _Did it really matter?_

 _Did any of his thoughts really matter?_

 _Rodimus appeared uneasy. "Prime, did you notice a shadow in the Matrix or in your dreams?"_

 _Ah, the shadow. It was not a shadow. A toxic, ruinous, faceless Darkness Desolated the Matrix and left it Void._

 _Diamond-shaped head. Tapered legs. A long tail._

 _ **He**_ _had the diamond head. Those were_ _ **his**_ _legs, long and deadly._

 _If I dropped you from here, could you fly?_

 _Non._

 _Linear._

 _Existence_.

 _Breakfast was extra good their sixth morning on the_ _Infraction_ _. Optimus agreed to meet his wife at the table. But fifteen minutes later, she still failed to appear. Excusing himself, Prime checked her usual haunts before returning to their room. Was she ill?_

 _Not enough time._

Moisture burned Prime's eyes. The last month was so exciting and everyday so beautiful and now it was over. His heart sank. The last time he held her was the last time he held her.

It was fair. It was more than fair. But the temporary situation was too short. And too short was not fair.

Dot's voice punctured the silence. "How you doing, Handsome?"

"Better, I think."

The old lady secured the sheet under Prime's left arm. "They found you deficient of something. Pretty critical."

"Deficient? Of what?"

She eyed him skeptically. "Care to guess?"

Prime shook his head.

Parthon cleared his throat. "Here it's called _effidium_. The Quintessons call it Cybertonium."

Now the captain caught Prime's attention. "What-Where does Cybertonium come from around here?"

Dot jumped in again. "From this planet, oddly enough. I had to play a good song about your origins. They couldn't understand why your body required cybertonium."

Optimus did not know what to say to that. He hesitated before turning to the captain. "Parthon have you heard anything from Rusti?"

Parthon shook his head. "Plucky is working his magic to get us out."

Optimus struggled to sit up and proceeded to remove tags, needles and patches. But Dot stopped him at the needle. "You'll alert the nurse. She cautioned, the needles are movement sensitive.

Optimus studied her before tracing the needles power source. "Be quiet," he told the monitors. The mechanism shut down and Prime removed the IV."

Parthon folded his arms. "Is that a Transformer ability?

"No," Prime replied as he ripped off one patch then another. "It's a Prime thing." He reached for the visor and slipped it on.

The hospitals fire alarm rang loud and shrill. The Infraction's captain grinned. "That would be Plucky. Dot, take the look-out." Parthon helped Prime into his clothes as fast as Optimus could move. Dot kept her eyes on the hallway until captain and leader joined her outside the door. Parthon supported Optimus down the hall and into the elevator. The Autobot drew breath to speak but Parthon's finger crossed his lips and pointed to the overhead camera.

The elevator landed gently and Dot stepped out first. Hospital staff, volunteers, patients and doctors raced two and fro like mice rushing through a battlefield. The old lady silently signaled it safe for Prime and Parthon to emerge. They stepped aside and took a seat at a nearby metal bench.

Parthon surveyed the environment, gauged Prime's current stability and leaned to speak into the Autobot's ear. "We'll wait for Plucky."

Optimus nodded and kept his focus on the floor. A voice over from a nearby speaker called everyone's attention. " _Attention, all staff and patrons must evacuate in a controlled and orderly fashion. Prepare your ID's for inspection."_

As far as Prime could tell, no one paid attention. They came and left, checked on friends, coworkers and acquaintances. Out the corner of his visor, Prime spotted Plucky heading toward them as if he were on roller skates. The Infraction's second-in-command dropped to the bench and leaned toward Parthon.

The captain nodded and leaned toward Prime. "We're taking another exit."

Driven right and around a corner, Optimus escaped with his companions into a patio. They climbed two cases of stairs and rounded the building's eastern wing. They slipped behind two security checkpoints and melted into the crowd as people migrated to other parts of the neighborhood. Only then did Optimus and Parthon see how the emergency situation occurred; someone used a rare (illegal) neutron bomb and vaporized the corner of the hospital's fourth floor.

Optimus stared in disbelief. "I didn't think neutron weapons existed anymore."

Parthon smiled wryly. "That's Plucky. Always a surprise. Let's get out of here."

They found a measure of safety within the confines of a tiny restaurant. Optimus' thoughts were not on food or drink. He tried to reach out to Rodimus and hoped their link was not diminished.

A wave of relief assailed the Autobot leader when Rodimus answered. Only one word came to him, but it gave Prime one less thing to worry about.

Parthon nudged Prime. "Lower your eyes."

"What?"

"Bow your head."

Optimus obeyed as a waitress approached. "You want water?" she asked.

"No," Plucky replied. " _D'ron_ for all of us, please. Soup for our silent friend there and _fogmot_ for me and the general."

The waitress pointed to Prime. "Is he okay? He's not sick, is he?"

Parthon smiled kindly. "Post-op. The pain killers upset his stomach."

The waitress made a pitying sound and turned away. Optimus winced. Parthon was not lying about his stomach. He suppressed the discomfort and focused. "How are we to find Ryumee if our faces have been recorded by hospital cameras?"

Parthon smiled when the waitress returned with drinks. She set napkins and flatware before them and again vanished. The captain sipped a light green drink. "Don't know yet. We were going to do this altogether. Safety in numbers. But it seems no matter where we are, you and your people attract trouble."

At first, Parthon's statement amused the Autobot leader. But thinking on what their benefactor said, Optimus realized just how much an inconvenience they have been for the Infraction's crew. "I am sorry, Captain Parthon. I know we have disrupted and complicated your lives."

Parthon drew a sigh and sat straight. "It's not your fault. That lies with Pissant. However, I can't complain." He gave Optimus a wry smile. "It's actually been fun."

"Not for long," Plucky warned. "The city will be crawling with MP's at any point and instigate martial law."

The old lady nodded toward Prime. "How are you, Optimus?"

"Rodimus is coming," he said instead. A veil crossed his vision. Prime lifted his eyes and stared at Darkness as the Virus hissed and stared back. It shook its triangular head and tried to back away. A chain wrought of technology and Optimus' fortitude kept the monster in place. The Virus grew determined to break its chains. Although, strangely enough, Darkness was not interested in tormenting Its bearer. Something called It from afar. Something attracted the Virus' attention like the blood of distant prey.

A bowl of soup now sat before the ailing Autobot leader. His companions encouraged him to eat and take his time. Prime slowly ate. He wished with every spoonful he were with Rusti, in a quiet room, on a rainy day, far from trouble.

By the time his companions finished eating, Optimus felt better. They talked him into eating a piece of cake before exiting the restaurant. Optimus followed them like a child too confused to engage in adult conversation.

Dot took his hand and the group traveled from street corner to corner. Bright lights and large cameras followed them everywhere. The planet's native population marched about their business with closed mouths and drawn faces.

"You!" Three MP's came right for them. "Identification!"

As if well practiced, Parthon produced his first. Plucky stepped in next and started asking the MP's questions about new ID's. Dot slipped Optimus' ID into his pocket before handing the third officer hers.

Optimus silently surrendered his while Darkness hissed. The Autobot leader, too preoccupied with the Virus, did not hear the brief and light conversation between Parthon and the MP officers. Nevertheless, Optimus was surprised when one MP laughed and waved them on. Prime wanted to ask what the captain told the them but Dot took his hand again and warned him to remain quiet.

Two city blocks down and left, Plucky led them into a more pleasant area of Laktromycix. Trees and shrubs from other worlds framed the sidewalks. Solar glass panels paved the streets and anti-gravity lights hovered above them.

Propaganda signs glared from brick walls while entertainment fliers burst with high-potency color. Plucky and Dot led them across one more street. A grand building rose from the ground like an alien palace. A walkway framed by silver shrubs led guests from the street into a courtyard. There they waited behind another group where a tall male escorted a shriveled female. Her eyes narrowed at Parthon and she slapped the tall male's large hand. His pasty face turned mechanically.

"Marso of Luugrat is displeased with your vicinity. Please back away."

Parthon glared. "I am General Parthon. Retired. And I will stand where I see fit. The snit will have to put up with us."

The lobby doors opened and the group entered a large spacious room with lights that bounced off dark glass walls. Males and females occupied every corner, wearing black and white uniforms.

The place smelled clean, sweet and savory and somehow the smell of food made Optimus feel less disoriented.

Plucky stepped away then returned with small metal tags in hand. He gave one to each of them and again Optimus followed his companions through a forest of alien creatures. They passed a fancy bar offering drinks with plants and other materials inside the glasses.

The group ascended a short staircase and entered a crowded ballroom. Ambient light kept patrons in a low-key mood while a spotlight directed attention to a musician and a lady singer.

A plump waitress approached and Parthon quietly spoke into her ear. With a polite gesture, she led them to a circular table roughly one-thirty of Optimus' right. They each claimed a seat while Plucky ordered drinks and appetizers.

Once the entertainers took a break, Prime leaned toward Parthon. "What will we do once we find Ryumee?"

Parthon hesitated before answering. "Rusti and Galvatron. Hopefully we can find Magnus and Cloudstreaker and get off this dead world." He looked Prime in the eye. "I wish I could make guarantees, Optimus Prime. I really do."

It dawned on the Autobot leader that he may have to choose between finding Magnus and Cloudy or searching for Galvatron and Rusti. That did not sit well with him. Prime privately vowed not to leave Mechlatex until everyone was accounted for; even should the Infraction abandon them.

An anorexic waitress approached with a broad serving platter. She set a round of drinks per Plucky's order then set three baskets of fried goodies. "Drinks, courtesy of the Chunyan Rift," she proclaimed. "And toppers as recommended by Dot Ten-Twelve."

The group collectively laid eyes on her. Dark hair piled atop her head. Her own solid black eyes gazed at each person in turn. "If you plan to leave early, I suggest waiting an hour and a half. Will you wait that long?"

"Naturally!" Plucky piped. "The entertainment is good and the personnel here are mechanical and precise. It's a good place." She nodded once and departed. Optimus guessed the waitress was Ryumee.

Parthon scratched his neck. "Didn't expect her to look that pretty."

Dot smirked and sipped her glass. "Were you expecting a zumuthian dwark?"

"No," the captain returned. "It's just that...Pissant. I was expecting something less pleasant."

Prime smiled but suppressed laughter. "I have to agree," he said. That old sinking feeling tugged at the Autobot leader. Optimus' intuition directed his gaze to the entrance. He stared until a figure appeared wearing an exosuit. Prime recognized Fracas, Scourge's Targetmaster interface. Like a knee-jerk reaction, the Autobot jumped to his feet.

Startled by his sudden movement, Dot flinched. "What's wrong?"

Her voice brought him back to the moment and reminded Prime of his humanoid status. He plopped back down. "Nothing," he swiftly lied. "I... I need to find a restroom." Plucky pointed in the general direction and Optimus wove his way through and around the bustling crowd of well-dressed people. He found the men's room although he did not need to use it. He paused to wash his hands. The cold water gave him a moment to school his emotions from trepidation to calm and alert.

Then Fracas and two other Targetmasters stepped in. All three picked a urinal and spent time to undo latches and plates.

Prime kept his head down, removed his visor and splashed cold water on his face.

"You smell something?" Fracas said to Nightstick.

"You," Nightstick sneered. "Keep telling you to stop drinking _gorvo."_

"No, stupid. It smells like..." Fracas sniffed the air as he finished his business. "Smells like _Autobot._ " All three Targetmasters twisted round while Optimus pretended not to notice. He replaced the visor and calmly headed out the door.

Hairsplitter smacked the back of Nightstick's head. "Well, N, seems you have the opportunity to show us how stuff's done."

" _N'k_ all on you, Hairs. Get off my back!"

"KNOCK IT OFF!" Fracas punched Hairsplitter in the chest then burst out the room, a long line of curses followed him.

People made way for Fracas, who stomped the floor as if leaving his footprints in the carpet. They glared at the other two Targetmasters who shoved, snarled and groped their way outside.

Hairsplitter exited before Nighstick and spun about, preventing his peer from crossing the threshold. "What did I say, N? I _said_ time to show us what a good Decepticon you are!"

"I'LL DO IT BY RIPPING OFF YOUR HEAD!" Nightstick stumbled backward when Fracas punched him.

"Quit screwing around, Nightstick! You're already under suspicion. Get back in there and bring that flesh creature here!"

Nightstick hissed and swore behind his metal mask. He complied and withdrew.

Optimus rushed through the crowd and reached Parthon as another musical duet took the stage. "You have to leave. NOW."

Parthon regarded him calmly. "What's wrong?"

Prime pocketed a table knife. "Decepticon Targetmasters. Three of them."

Plucky partly raised his hand. "What's a Targetmaster?"

Optimus heard Nighstick's metal boots tap the flooring at the threshold. He pointed at the humanoid-size Decepticon. "THAT."

Nightstick and Prime caught one another's line of sight. Optimus squeezed Parthon's shoulder and fled. Nightstick leapt into the air, paused at the table and tipped it over. "WHO ARE YOU?!"

A small silver object whacked the side of his helm and the Targetmaster scanned the room. The second he saw Optimus, he abandoned the Infraction's crew mates and shoved the next table aside.

People ducked and screamed when Nightstick transformed and blasted the doorway where Optimus stood. Dust, smoke, debris and flames flew in all directions. Nightstick returned to robotic mode and jumped from table to table. He chased a vanishing shadow into an empty ballroom. The Decepticon Targetmaster sneered at the unlit room and activated a flashlight. At this point returning empty-handed promised more social abuse. He had to prove himself. Except, where was the Autobot-smelling flesh-head?

Optimus' voice fell from the ceiling. "My-y-y-y goodness," the Autobot jeered. "They let you outside to do your business and now you can't find your way back. Do you have ID tags? Are you up to date on your rabies shots?"

"You stink like an Autobot! Who are you?!"

"An Autobot. Come now, are you really that stupid?"

"You're LYING... or you're deranged. Either way, you stink." Nightstick transformed and shot upward. He did not expect the fleshling to move so fast. But any good hunt allots for a few misses.

And he _meant_ to miss, anyway.

Concrete, dust and pieces of metal rained upon the carpet and tables. With a quiet growl, Nightstick dropped to his feet.

"You missed," Optimus taunted. "Bad doggie."

"Don't be so cocky, dumbass. You're only giving away your location."

"Is that so?"

 _PLINK._

A long screw tapped against the Targetmaster's metal head. He turned left. He turned to the other left and came face to face with his prey. Optimus struck him with a metal table leg.

Prime knew exactly where to hit him. Nightstick held his head as if his brains would spill. He growled and dropped to his knees.

"Mm." Prime grunted. "Puppy isn't playful. Let's go outside." Locking an arm under Nightstick's shoulder, Optimus dragged the Targetmaster to the side exit. In two tries, he broke open the double doors and flung his baggage out.

Five feet down.

Into the restaurant patio.

Which was down for repairs.

Nightstick jumped as if he awoke from unconsciousness. "What the-" He checked his body. "How the Pitt-"

 _PLINK_

A screw bounced off Nightstick's right shoulder. "Who's doing that?!" Another metal screw struck his left eye. "Gaaagh! STOP IT!"

Prime's voice came from nowhere. "Answer a couple of questions and I will."

"Smelt you!"

"Very well."

Nightstick stumbled around and ran into a support beam. He rubbed his left eye and made several attempts to get it to work right.

Optimus crouched on a catwalk above the disoriented Targetmaster. "How many Decepticons are stationed here?"

"Not telling, fleshhead."

"Is Skorponok here?"

"Not telling, Fleshhead."

"Are you really this stupid?"

"Not tell-"

 _PLINK_. A large screw bounced off his helm.

 _TINK. TINK. TINK. TINK. TINK. TINK._ One nail after another hit his helm and shoulders. Another round assaulted his exostructure and his nerves until Nightstick roared. He turned right. A nail bounced off his chest. The Targetmaster transformed and blew a hole through the support structure.

 _PLINK_!

Nightstick panned left and fired.

 _TINK_!

He fired straight overhead.

 _PLINK!_

The humanoid Decepticon returned to robot mode and howled in frustration. He abandoned the spot and ran toward the patio exit.

 _PLINK!_ _PLINK!_ _PLINK!_ _PLINK!_ _PLINK!_

Behind his head several screws ricocheted from him to the floor. Nightstick spun about. "STOP-"

 _CRACK!_

With a muffled cry, the Targetmaster dropped on his caboose. A sledgehammer dented his helm and dropped beside his left.

A set of sturdy footfalls crunched on debris, dirt and metal shavings. Nightstick lifted his eyes and climbed Optimus' height. "What the PITT?"

Prime removed his visor and stared the Targetmaster down. "I'd apologize for your confusion had I not found it so amusing." The Autobot leader crouched before the humiliated Targetmaster. "Let's start over. How many Decepticons are stationed here?"

Nightstick scoffed and spit a gob of nastiness, missing Optimus by nacto-meters. "Not vibing on that frequency."

Optimus laughed.

Fracas lost his patience forty-five minutes after Nightstick returned inside. The two remaining Targetmasters ventured within. Their heavy strides alerted the crowd to give them a wide path. Their actions attracted a security alert and a bouncer in a dark suit approached them.

"I have to ask you to leave. Now."

Fracas stared before removing his helmet. He thumbed the Decepticon emblem on his chest. "See this? It says I can do anything I want. So move aside or get fried."

The bouncer folded his huge arms and set his face. He did not see Optimus approach his four-o'clock.

The humanoid Autobot leader ping-ponged his gaze between the two Targetmasters. "Weren't there three of you?" he asked innocently.

Neither deceived nor amused, Fracas pointed. "WHO ARE YOU?" He flinched and hopped back when Optimus tossed two flat objects at him. They fell at Fracas' feet and splattered the floor with black-green goo. Hairsplitter yelped.

Fracas leaned slightly forward. "That's disgusting! What did you do to Nightstick?"

 _The restaurant and its occupants vanished, replaced with a green valley, gentle hills and a partly clouded sky. A soft breeze waved over long grasses and at the distance, a six-point buck drank water from a brook._

 _Was this Mechlatex at one time?_

 _No. No, Mechlatex never had native animal life; even insects._

 _Optimus breathed deeply and dug his muzzle into soft dark soil. He snapped off a few mouthfulls of tender grass roots and munched under a warm sun._

 _The skeleton of a racoon marched toward him from a distance. It sat and stared while Optimus ate another juicy root. "Do you know who I am?"_

 _Optimus considered. "I am the offspring of many things," he answered. "I know many subjects but I do not know you. Are a people?"_

" _We were the children of the Chyaun Rift. Once there were many worlds of us. Now we are scarce few."_

" _Hm. I and my kind are homeless, also." the tortoise replied. "I am heartfelt for your loss."_

 _The skeleton turned that way then the other. She lifted her furless face to the sky. "You have a lovely valley, Friend Tortoise," she said after a while. "Can I live here with you?"_

 _Optimus considered it. "You wish to be homeless with me?"_

" _I am already homeless. But you have this valley which has water and food and nearby there are trees where I might find refuge."_

 _Optimus sent his own gaze right then left and indeed, the racoon skeleton was correct. He lived in a great valley filled with wonderful things and good creatures. "Yes," he answered. "You may share my valley. My valley will now be our valley and we will protect our valley together."_

 _The skeleton laid its paws on Optimus' shell. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you."_

 _Non_

 _Linear_

 _Existence._

Back in his humanoid form, the Autobot leader checked his hands and patted his clothing. He sat slumped against a building wall with the lady waitress lying beside him.

"How did..." Prime laid a hand on her shoulder. "Hello? Are you all right?"

She whimpered and sat up one movement at a time. The waitress moved hair from her eyes. Her face, scratched, dirty and bruised, reflected recent trauma. Her lips trembled. "I'm, I'll be okay," she whispered. "Thank you for rescuing me."

"I, I rescued you?"

She nodded. "From the Targetmasters. They were going to take me to the palace. But you stopped them."

"I see. Where are we?"

"It was dark. I don't know."

"What happened to the restaurant?" Prime stood and helped the lady to her feet. "Are you Ryumee?"

"Um," her expression, nonplused, she stammered. "What-what restaurant? And how did you know my name?"

Optimus scratched the back of his head and looked sheepish.

 **-INCLINATION-**

The distortion wave flooded over Laktromycix's wall and radiated across the filthy, dead land.

Rusti took a blow; thousands of pinpricks cut her face before they penetrated her clothing. The Sweep roared and dropped her. His form disintegrated into a billion colorful atoms. The burnt soil flashed to life; a carpet of blue coiled leaves sprang into existence and birthed tiny white flowers.

At the northern horizon, Laktromycix lost her walls, the parapet, the check point and weapons peeking out the gunslits.

The distortion wave passed and Rusti, who floated five feet in the air, landed hard on her midriff. She lost wind and lay still, stunned.

"Rusti?" It could have been Optimus for the whisper coasted along the wind. A large warm hand covered her right shoulder blade.

"Rusti? Rusti?" Galvatron's voice strengthened without a hint of panic. His touch prompted her body to draw breath. She coughed and rolled over, wincing. Rusti did not see the relief and amusement beam from her companion's features. "That was a bad fall," he said. She groaned. He added a smirk. You have no sense of grace whatsoever. You should _never_ belly flop."

The whole front side of her body hurt. "I think I'm going to throw up."

"Can you walk?"

"Ohmigod, Galvatron. I haven't even stood up yet!" She lapped an arm over her face."

"Right," he replied. "Let's get you up. Anything broken?"

"Is there blood on my face?"

"No. Doesn't mean you don't have a brain lesion."

"Not funny," she mumbled.

"Well, I'm trying to determine how your red curls came back."

"What?" Rusti propped herself on elbows and twisted her face. "What did you say?"

"Red and curly." He grinned as she grabbed her locks.

"Ohmigod," she moaned. "Ohmigod," she repeated, "We can't go into the city with me looking like this!"

"Of course we can. We'll just say it's a wig that you glued on and cannot take off."

Rusti scowled but could not argue the logic.

In spite of her unsteady gait, they continued toward the city. Their senses distracted them a time then two when a tall, new plant shot up from the ground without warning. Galvatron stretched to touch a freshly-bloomed crystal flower.

Rusti dragged him back to the road. "Remember what Parthon said? Everything's in flux. Your molecules might intermingle and I'll have to explain why you have leaves growing out your ears."

Galvatron considered her warning then raised his brows. "Better leaves than tentacles."

"You scare me, Galvatron."

To her amazement, Rusti and Galvatron entered the city unhindered. She was not ignorant that every light post and rooftop sported a camera.

Up and down sidewalks and streets zipped little robots. They paused to gaze at people as citizens went about their daily business. People moved on as if the little bots did not exist.

Rusti startled when a miniature helicopter appeared from nowhere and floated in front of them.

"What would you say, Mizz Rusti?" Galvatron asked calmly. "Right side?" he twisted so the 'copter had better view of his right biceps. "Or left? I think my left is the better looking."

Rusti stared at the device. "Go away," she said to it. "And don't remember anything."

It flew off and Galvatron stared after it. "I appreciate your protection, Rusti. But I think it's an exercise in futility. You cannot tell all of them to forget us."

She raised her eyes in consideration. "No," she answered. "But then, I've never tried."

Galvatron lightly smiled and pointed left. "That way. We need to go that way."

They crossed the street into a courtyard. Four trees with dark trunks and deep red leaves swayed slowly in the breeze. Rusti touched one to be sure it was real. Galvatron ascended a flight of stairs nestled amid green shrubs and slender young trees.

Rusti reluctantly followed but kept her pace slow while her senses enjoyed the only green she had seen in weeks. Memories of Optimus' private rooftop garden roused homesickness. She quickened her pace to distract the ache in her heart.

The stair wound up and up again until she and Galvatron surfaced onto a fresh clean second level of the city. More trees graced the walkways. Grand courtyards with open patios waited for visitors. The citizens dressed well and delighted themselves with one leisure moment after another. Cars came and passed, hovering eight to ten inches above the plated roads. Personal antigrav transports carried business people down walkways and across the streets.

Fewer drones harassed the populace. Rusti noticed more couples populated the city's upper level. She wondered if they knew anything abut the world below their feet or south of the city borders.

She and Galvatron encountered a high-class clothing store. Large windows attracted attention to faceless plastic models. The clothing draped over them in shadowy, clouded colors. Rusti liked the silky, hand-knit shawls and undershirts.

Galvatron stopped dead in his tracks and spun about. He pointed seven-thirty of their position. "That way," he declared. "We need to go there."

Rusti set her eyes upon a tall, temple-like building. A wrap-around terrace overlooked the city from the third floor. Rusti narrowed her eyes. The temple walls resembled Transformer-size dimensions. "What is that?" she asked.

"Our destination," her Decepticon companion answered. He took two steps past her when a strangely quiet boom thundered several streets away. In seconds all drone units swarmed in the general direction.

Rusti blinked from the scene of the explosion to Galvatron. "What are the chances that Optimus is in that direction"

Galvatron did not need a translation. Albeit reluctant, he led Rusti on a swift pace through growing traffic.

Ten blocks down, the authorities set up a barrier complete with drones and part English bulldog-part frog mechanical beasts.

A squad of military police escorted an army of emergency vehicles and coordinated disaster control teams. Firemen, demolition control personnel, medical professionals and all their staff set up tents and equipment while police cleared the streets of onlookers.

Several floors of the hospital dissolved under a specialized neutron weapon Rusti never witnessed before. Patients and medical workers evacuated out the front calmly and orderly.

Galvatron dropped a hand on Rusti's shoulder and leaned toward her. "I think I just spotted Dot."

"Dot?"

Galvatron searched for holes and paths through and around the throng. But, naturally, the MP's were trained experts in crowd control. No mater, the Decepticon himself knew this game. Or so he believed until Rusti gasped and choked on air. "What?" He asked.

She pointed eleven o'clock and Galvatron's eyes went wide. Two Sweeps and three Targetmasters landed near the MP control center. "They don't know who or what we are, Rusti. We'll be fine."

She nailed him with worried eyes. "Don't be so sure, Galvatron. You might _look_ human, but you still vibrate with Decepticon life force frequencies.

He smiled, pleased. "Do I, now? Come, let's go find your Better Half."

Neither Galvatron nor Rusti noticed two Headmaster Nebulon agents landed and pointed Rusti out to their peers. One Sweep silently ordered an arrest and one Headmaster wove through the crowd. His prey might have escaped but red hair was not difficult to trace.

Galvatron headed for the shadowy places and he and Rusti moved only when he considered it relatively safe.

They found themselves in a box neighborhood surrounded by rock-and-cement homes. A metal sign stood guard, prohibiting pets. One way in, one way out. Rusti turned about face to retreat when a robotic figure clapped the ground with metal feet.

"Red curly hair. What a novelty! And you look as sweet as they come."

From the dark corridor the robot emerged with the nastiest smile Rusti saw only from her father. She stepped back and kept her eyes on the Transformer so as not to betray Galvatron's position. "That's far enough," she warned.

"Not for me."

Rusti smiled as Galvatron slammed the metal sign post into the robot's temple. Their tracker hit the ground with a bang. Galvatron shouldered his bent weapon and smiled at the captive.

"Well," the Decepticon boomed. "I see Skorponok still sends out the little dogs before unleashing the big ones. But you, _Brisko_? For real, now? It's a weak joke.

Brisko paddled his gaze from Galvatron to Rusti and back. He scooted back and removed his helmet. "What the condemnation are you"

"What are you?" Rusti asked in turn.

"A Headmaster," Galvatron answered. "But he's an _animal_ headmaster. Fangry's nasty slag baby."

"Don't call me that!" Brisko hissed. "That was BLOT'S name!"

"Blot is dead," Galvatron grunted in turn. "So now you get to inherit it."

"Who are you?!"

Galvatron grinned as Rusti laughed softly. The former Decepticon leader crouched beside her, his arms lapped over his knees. "Your _real_ leader, Brisko. And what shall we do with you?"

Rusti folded her arms. "He'd make a funny colored TV set." She stared at the Headmaster and remembered how she controlled Witwicky's suit. "Stand up," she ordered the mech.

Brisko scoffed but his body obeyed her. He shouted, surprised. "What is this?"

"Telemechanics," Rusti replied.

"Hmm," Galvatron said out loud. "Can you transform him?"

Rusti _glowered_ at Galvatron as if he spoke gibberish. "That would be mean."

She did not see him smile. "It would be fitting for someone like Brisko. Why don't you tell Mizz Rusti how you once murdered six Nebulon girls and papered your quarter's walls with their skins? Did Skorponok and Fangry let you keep your disgusting trophies?" He stood straight and folded his arms. "Believe me, my dear, he'd do the same to you. Ergo, to keep him from blabbing, we either kill him or disable his internal communicator and lock him up. Since we have no place to put him, I suggest transformation lock down."

Rusti did not feel comfortable invading anyone's space, but she understood Galvatron's point and concentrated. She mentally pierced Bristo's armored shell and traced infrastructure down to cords and reflex coils. She found his internal comlink.

Bristo yelped when it shorted.

Rusti explored the inner workings, connectors, refitters, subspace modulators, armitoid, retraction instuds, all things that made a Nebulon binary Headmaster. Withdrawing from the physiology crash course, Rusti drew a deep breath.

Bristo screamed. He wiggled like a worm until the armor on his legs opened and folded. His whole frame bent backward while his helmet reattached and locked his head into his chest. Bristo's shoulders lifted up, his arms opened like a set of boxes and locked together. Without his Transformer home, Bristo's reconfigured form dropped hard, facing north.

Rusti and Galvatron stared at the cube of a head. They examined her work; Galvatron for amusement, Rusti to affirm her new skill. The head stood as high as Rusti's shoulders. Red optics flared before Bristo spoke.

"You'll suffer for this! I will _eat_ you, fleshling maggot! How dare you humiliate me!"

"Shut up," Rusti snapped.

Galvatron sighed. "Oh, but to have a pen on hand. 'Galvatron was here' would be amusing to write. Wouldn't yo-" he stopped mid-sentence when Rusti pulled a pen from her bag. The former Decepticon leader laughed.

Ten minutes later Brisko had a new complaint. Galvatron's name covered every area of the Headmaster's exostructure.

"All done!" Galvatron sang. "Come, Mizz Rusti. Your beloved awaits!'

Sunset doused the city with ethereal light as the day slowly neared its end. Rusti's stomach complained but she said nothing to Galvatron. They entered another, prettier part of the city. Restaurants baited them with the savory smells of home cooking and expensive menus.

"Galvatron," she said as they passed a small food stand.

"I know," he answered automatically. "I am hungry, too."

"Well, yeah," she agreed. "But I want to thank you for helping me find Optimus first."

Galvatron smiled kindly. "Never go into battle without solid back up."

"We're not going to battle, Galvatron."

" _I_ am the back up, Mizz Rusti-oh, isn't that Plucky?"

"Where?!"

Galvatron pointed and Rusti spotted Dot. "DOT!" She cried and waved her arms.

Both parties wove between other people and objects until Rusti excitedly hugged the old lady. "I'm so glad to see you!" Rusti rejoiced.

Galvatron spoiled the moment: "Where is Optimus Prime?"

Parthon spoke for the group: "We were looking for him. You found us first."

Rusti drew breath to speak when the thunderous sound of engines roared above the rooftops. Sweeps climbed the sky. They split into diamond formation and fired upon a descending black object.

"Ohmigod," Rusti whispered.

"Crap," Galvatron growled.

The four Sweeps ascended, the Inoux sailed past them and aimed for the city. The Decepticons maneuvered to engaged. Two opened fire and the other two broke formation. The alien made an amazing loop-de-loop and shot one Sweep. That Sweep crashed. The other Sweep: not so lucky. People gasped and flinched when the Decepticon exploded and vaporized. The remaining two Sweeps engaged in battle joined by three more Decepticons.

Galvatron grunted when he recognized Mindwipe and Misfire. "We should not be out here," he cautioned.

As if someone killed the city, building and street plunged into darkness. To Rusti's surprise, the natives did not panic. Pedestrians and traffic merely stopped moving. Seconds later, building after building lit from their corners. Nothing illuminated from inside but rooftops and edges radiated with emergency power. Sidewalk edges, street signs and directional patterns also glowed, directing traffic and citizens to return home. The city moved again under stable but subdued power.

BOOM!

A car flattened under the weight of a giant fallen object. Galvatron instinctively pressed Rusti against the nearest wall and stood in front of her. Parthon and his team also slammed their backs to the wall. Amid the weak lighting, Rusti watched the fallen object move. It rolled over and stood.

She did not recognized Misfire, even as he stumbled about, holding a broken arm. His red optics flickered until the left optic expired.

 _TH-TH-TH-THWUMP._

Galvatron swore again when an Inoux Assassin Class landed hard on the street. Its stature reached three stories. Its tapered fingers clicked with anticipation. Misfire drew his binary weapon and hit the Inoux point on the chest. The resulting light show cast harsh brief shadows amid the buildings and vehicles. But the Assassin did not so much as flinch. Its horned head tilted; comical but creepy.

Misfire shot again and again with the same results. His Nebulon partner, Aimless pried himself from the Decepticon. "What the fracking hills of Pekos are you DOING?! You can't KILL IT!"

"Shut up! I'm in charge, here!"

Using his lip components rather than his head, Misfire failed to see the Assassin leap backward into the air. The Inoux's legs shattered the Targetmaster's boiler plate and sent him flat on his back. The Assassin abandoned Misfire and Aimless when Mindwipe landed half a mile down the street.

Galvatron waited until Mindwipe and the Inoux were fully engaged before taking a moment to breathe. He twisted to the right to ask Rusti if she was okay. But she slipped round his left with a cry of delight.

"Optimus!" She rushed from the building wall, crossed the street and leapt into his arms. She embraced him with arms and legs and pecked his lips three times before setting into an impassioned kiss.

The Autobot leader entwined his fingers into her hair before realizing her curls returned. He broke the kiss. "Rusti, your hair. What happened?"

"Time disruption wave," she answered simply. "Didn't you see it? Didn't it affect you?"

Prime smirked with a sheepish smile. "I'll tell you about it later." He gripped her all the closer.

Galvatron hailed them from the sidewalk. "We cannot stay in the streets like this."

Reluctant to leave the moment, Optimus broke the embrace and nodded.

A forceful hot wind billowed down the street from where the two giants fought. Fire blazed from a large building. Optimus and Galvatron recognized the blurring effects of a gas plume. They ordered everyone to hide in the closest alley.

The resulting explosion shook the ground and its thunderous clamor rolled across the city while fumes and fire sucked out the oxygen.

Rusti covered her nose and mouth with her blouse and closed her eyes to the toxic fallout. Even through the fabric she smelled and tasted putrid plastic

Parthon crouched to her right and Plucky beside him. Plucky gagged, coughed then vomited. Parthon moved, though Rusti could not tell what he was doing. "Dot!" he choked, "Get us out of here!"

"I'm warning you, Parthon," the old lady replied, "I'm getting too old for this kind of excitement-"

"Wait!" Optimus cut in. He paused when another explosion rattled the city. Reflexively, the Autobot leader protected Rusti with his body. "Dot," he called over the noise, "Ryumee is a cross the street! I need to get her."

"Don't worry, Optimus," she answered. "I'll handle it."

For Rusti the world muted into a quiet grey. The toxic air reduced to breathable levels and the temperature cooled. The next minute the group huddled in a different alley. The city's emergency light still dispelled complete dark but the air was cleaner and the noise became a distant drum.

Across the dirty alley, Dot slumped, exhausted. Parthon crawled to her. "Dot, Dot," he rasped.

She slapped his hand. "Watch what you're touching there, Young Man. I'm just fine."

"I swear I will never ask you to do that again."

"Oh please," the old lady cackled, "I'm old, not sleeping in a coffin. How's Plucky?"

Parthon checked on Plucky while Optimus stood and examined their new surroundings. "Where are we?" he asked "How did we get here?"

Dot forced herself up and patted Galvatron's arm when he came to her aid. "The safehouse is at the end of the alley there. Hi, Handsome."

Rusti double-checked the street and smiled at the waitress. "You must be Ryumee."

The humanoid Automatron nodded, clearly nervous

Optimus waited for everyone else to move forward so that he covered their backs.

Plucky and Parthon pushed against an ancient brick wall. When their combined strength failed, Galvatron replaced Plucky. Decepticon and captain moved the wall. A partition rolled away, revealing dark emptiness.

Galvatron held the door as Parthon walked ahead. "Mind the smell," he warned. "Mummy spiders might be everywhere."

Daylight appeared through a door at the other end of the expanse. Dot and Plucky walked ahead while Galvatron closed the brick door behind them.

Plucky unlocked a thin door. Dust kicked up the moment the group entered a two-bedroom empty home. The carpet smelled old and stale. The yellowed walls bespoke of age and neglect.

Plucky tucked the key into his jacket. "Well, it's not the _Shamboo Inn_ but it's got a roof and walls."

Dot peeked into the bathroom. "You still got my radio equipment here, Plucky?"

"Didn't change a thing." the Infraction's second-in-command announced.

Parthon offered his hand to Ryumee. "Miss Ryumee, he said, "It's a pleasure to meet you officially. I'm Captain Parthon. The little guy there is Plucky, my second-in-command. And there's Dot, our communications and contacts officer. And these are our hitchhikers, the Autobots. This is Optimus Prime, their leader." Parthon nodded for Prime to introduce his own people.

Optimus proffered a hand toward his friend. "This is Galvatron. Galvatron, Ryumee. And this beautiful creature is my wife, Rusti.

"Hi," Rusti greeted again. Ryumee answered in kind. "I'm sorry if we found you later than Captain Parthon hoped."

Ryumee closed her back eyes. "I'm just glad to get off this planet."

Plucky frowned. "Sadly enough, the city is in lock down, thanks to the fighting. We gotta lay low."

"Alright," Parthon announced "Sleeping arrangements: Ryumee, you and Dot take one room. Optimus, you and the Misses take the other."

"Thank you, Captain," Optimus returned.

Plucky rested half an hour before leaving to scavenge for food. Dot hauled a small radio set from the ceiling in the kitchen. She pieced it together while Ryumee and Rusti ventured through the small house, discovering hidden beds in the walls, chairs stashed under the floor and water under kitchen cabinets.

Rusti found a small stash of dishes. She poured water into cups and warned someone would have to share since there were only four. She shared her bottle with Optimus who sat on the dusty floor beside Galvatron in the livingroom. Dot used one chair in the bedroom while Parthon and Ryumee occupied the other two.

Prime took a second sip of water. He eyed Galvatron as if measuring the Decepticon's mood. "I am glad that you and Rusti left us a note. But you still left me greatly concerned, Galvatron."

"I'm sorry, Optimus," he returned sincerely.

"I don't think he could help it," Optimus, Rusti said. "He was lured here. And I could not let him go alone."

"Lured?" Prime repeated. "How?"

Rusti thought about answering. But it was Galvatron's story to tell. She rested eyes on him and clasped Prime's hand.

"Uhh..." Galvatron scratched the back of his neck and winced. "It's like music. I hear music. The same tune over and over. I love to listen to it-"

"How long has this been going on?"

Galvatron smoothed his bare scalp. "Since I came back."

"Came back?"

"Well," Galvatron grinned. "I _was_ dead. Er, that was before I became a speck of dust."

All eyes glued onto Galvatron. Even Dot peered round the corner, her face the very complex of bewilderment.

Ryumee squirmed in her uncomfortable chair. "Were you reincarnated?"

Galvatron hesitated because the ideology was foreign. "I don't think so. I just was. And then I woke up on another planet. It was the Music that woke me."

Dot's old voice spoke for them: "What do you think it is?"

"I don't know."

Rusti's suspicion yearned to speak. She suppressed those voices; Galvatron was entitled to his privacy.

Plucky returned an hour later. He carried three canvass bags filled with food. The group ate, discussed an escape strategy then gave up for the night.

Rusti undressed and plunged into Optimus' arms. Touching him with her whole body gave her the greatest sense of home. They said nothing while she lay upon his well-defined chest and listened to his heart. He stroked and scrunched her hair.

"What can I do," she asked, "To keep you like this?"

"Take a photograph?"

His voice vibrated into her bones and she leisurely kissed his collar bone.

"Why am I so sad?" she asked.

"Because you have not had a shower in a few days? That always seems to cheer you up."

Rusti sat up on her elbows and grinned. "Will you wait here for me?"

He returned the smile. "Naturally."

The shower hissed from the bathroom. Rusti gleefully sang the praises of hot water. With a smile, Optimus opened the door.

"Pardon me, Ma'am," he said smoothly. "I'm looking for someone, eh, pale skin, beautiful smile, bright eyes."

"Missing persons?" Rusti said behind a flimsy curtain. "I will be happy to help out, Sir! We'll file an APB. Why don't you step into my office and I'll help you with the paper work." Her hand slipped round corner, her finger invited him in.

The deafening cacophony of bombs woke Rusti from deep sleep. Before she said anything, Prime jumped out the bed, grabbed his pants and threw her clothes.

"Hurry."

Rusti did the same as he: pants first. She fit into her boots and tugged her shirt on simultaneously. Parthon in the living room shouted at Dot and Plucky. Rusti joined the group as Dot destroyed her radio equipment.

"It wasn't me," the old lady declared.

"No," Parthon agreed. "I know. Plucky, take Dot and Ryumee straight to the ship."

The front wall cracked and blew outward. Two Sweeps crunched the rubble underfoot. One pointed his weapon down, squarely at Optimus.

"HA!" Nightstick and Fracas swore by the dirt on their feet they saw an Earthling-Autobot mix!"

"Hey!" someone behind the giants shouted. "Move aside, you thugs! You'll squish the illegals before Psykee gets to interrogate them." Aimless squeezed between the Sweep's boots, carrying a pistol. "Surrender quietly an' I'll not drop you where you stand!"

A quiet cackled followed Aimless' monologue but he wasn't laughing. A shadow faded onto the Targetmaster's shoulder and Pissant emerged from the dark. Aimless and the two sweeps froze at the snap of the Snail's fingers. "I'd consider this a good entrance, if I were directing a movie," he boasted.

"Well," Galvatron growled, "you're the only one who finds it amusing."

Pissant peered round Aimless' thick head. He set eyes on Galvatron then panned to the Automatron. "Ryumee! How are you, Dear? I'm delighted we found you safe and in one piece. As for you, Captain, fellow shipmates, this is where we part ways." Ryumee, Parthon, Dot and Plucky vanished.

Rusti scoffed. "Pissant!"

"What? I sent them back to the Infraction. They were actually nice people and deserved my gratitude. However, I owe _you nothing_. Galvatron, you'll be coming with me. The Autobot will go to Skorponok-or Psyklenox, whoever. And you, Rust-er- _Mechlatex_ or _Pyrzhak That Chamronsyn_ whichever you are at the moment-what's the matter, Prime? Confused? Puzzled? Think I'm lying? And Galvatron, no snarky remarks? Not so much as an objection?"

Rusti looked cross. "If you'd shut up long enough, he would."

Pissant smacked Aimless' helm. "Forward, you savage!" The snail steered his bearer close enough to stare into Rusti's face. "I will enjoy watching you die. I tried to talk Rodimus into offing himself but I respect Rain more than I should." Pissant directed Aimless to step back. "It doesn't matter. All I need to do is kill one of the three of you. Indirectly, of course. I'd rather not get into trouble again."

Rusti gave Pissant a dirty look before Optimus found his voice. "What do you want with us, Pissant? Why wait until now, here in Lactromycix?"

The snail clapped his hands together. "I'm glad you asked, Optimus! Since I am under observation, I used a back-road means of operation. Had to keep it smooth and good looking. I mean, yes, I really do care about the Automatrons. But I don't care about _you_. It's because of that damned Dinobot that I'm in this predicament. My controls weren't _broken_. I was merely _panicked_."

Glavatron lost his patience. "What are you talking about?!"

"Hey! I'm the only one with a reason to be angry here, Baldy! If the stupid balloon-headed Quintessons hadn't revived Optimus Prime and shattered his soul, none of us would have been here! But hey, God has the most unique sense of humor. He gave Optimus Prime's life back to throw them completely off track. And _then_ He gave Mechlatex permission to hide Prime's soul from the Quintessons. And _then_ he gave her permission to _adopt_ the Cybertronians. So now she's reformed this planet. The beautiful thing is that part of her and part of Prime reside in _you_." He pointed at Rusti. Then he pointed at Galvatron, "and she hid part of Prime's soul in _you_. And I'm sure you can fill in the blanks with Rodimus."

Pissant rubbed his hands together. "So! I kill the girl, I'll have a good day."

Galvatron softly laughed.

Pissant shot his eyes at the Decepticon. "What so funny?"

"For some reason, I thought all this was about me. But it's just some _criminal_ who's on parole, looking for revenge. And since you can't kill the judge, you go after one of her family members."

The snail smiled slowly. "How do you know it's not about you?" he snapped his fingers and the Sweeps moved again. "Lidar, kill the girl."

" _MISS LADY? MISS LADY, AWAKEN! I FOUND YOU! MISS LADY?_ "

Rusti stirred with a soft groan. Her body ached ears to toes, face to hands. She winced and opened her eyes.

" _MISS LADY?"_

Soft yellow light illuminated the area. A constant hum hiccuped once. When she sat up, Rusti found herself in a small cell capped with energy bars. Her head pounded. "What?" she slurred.

" _THE TECHNICIAN RELEASED ME FROM THE INVISIBLE CLAMPS AND I CAME HERE. YOU AND ULTRA MAGNUS HAVE NOT CONTACTED ME."_

It took her some seconds before Rusti realized the Sagittarian Mozart stood at the other side of the bars in his centaur form. She pushed up and staggered to the front of her tiny jail cell. "Mozart?" she squeaked. "How'd you find us? Wait, is it just you or are _all_ of you?"

" _MY ENTIRE SELF, LADY._ " the motif replied with a bow. _"THE_ _INFRACTION_ _TOLD ME EVERYTHING."_

She blushed. "I hope not." Rusti muttered. "Are you planet-side?"

" _JUST NOW ENTERING THE SYSTEM."_

Her eyes went wide and Rusti twisted around. "Optimus?" But he was not there. "Optimus?" she repeated. "Where-"

" _HERE HE IS, MISS LADY,"_ Mozart answered. " _IN THE CELL BESIDE YOU."_

"Is he okay? Optimus?" Rusti ran her hands along the metal wall, searching for an opening. "Mozart," she said, "Do you know how long I slept?"

" _I CAN ONLY CALCULATE THE TIME FROM MY ARRIVAL, MISS."_

"And that was a few minutes ago, wasn't it?"

The centaur lifted his ghostly head and flicked his outlined tail. " _I CALCULATE 29.14 EARTH MINUTES. BUT THAT'S NOT IN METAXAN TIME OR ROTATION."_

"No, no," Rusti waved. "You did good." She paused two beats. "I don't suppose you can get me out of here; undo the locks-"

" _I CAN COMMUNICATE WITH YOU, MISS, BUT I HAVE NO POWER DUE TO DISTANCE."_

Rusti frowned. "Of course. That would be too easy." Rusti examined her cell floor to ceiling, front to back. The lighting, or lack thereof, made it difficult to make out detail. But she spotted a hole in one corner that provided the only means of personal relief. A tiny sink protruded from the wall between she and Prime. Otherwise, the cell was asylum-certified.

Rusti checked her person for possible devices, weapons or useful objects. Not so much as a rubber band occupied her pockets. She stared at the bars with a deep frown. If only Cloudstreaker were with them.

"Galvatron," she said later. "Mozart, is Galvatron in another cell?

" _NO, MISS."_

"Optimus?" she called again.

" _HE LIES UNRESPONSIVE, MISS LADY. I FEAR HE HAS SUFFERED DAMAGE."_

Rusti hissed a foul word between her teeth. She laid hands on the wall between she and her love. Chilled metal told her the building itself watched them. "Open the cell," she ordered quietly. But the computerized structure ignored her. She was alien and had no clearance. "Shit," she repeated. "Optimus? Optimus?" Rusti banged her forehead against the wall and plowed her brains for ideas, any idea. She twisted round and sagged against the barrier, frustrated and concerned. Three deep breaths later she settled her gaze on the Mozart's motif. "Mozart," she said, "ETA planet-fall?"

"FOUR EARTH HOURS, MISS LADY. THE TRAJECTORY WILL BE TRICKY."

"How so?"

"THE PLANET PRODUCES COMPLICATING ENERGY READINGS. SOME ARE ON LIGHT WAVE FREQUENCIES BUT MOST ARE AETHERIAL."

She had no idea what the Mozart meant and dared not ask. She did not need a science lesson at the moment. Rusti stared into space and drifted into silence. She slid to the dirty floor. Her shirt caught a rough spot and tore. Cussing again, she turned to the offending metal plate and found an upper right corner bent outward while its neighbor concaved from an old impact. Her curiosity turned to hope as she traced the edges along the damaged panel. Rusti tugged and tugged. She found faint light seeping from the other side. She rubbed her aching indented fingers. If only she had a crowbar! Another idea hit her. She dropped to the floor, unzipped her boots and used the sole to pry the panel back until it snapped off. The sudden give flattened her to the floor. Rusti eagerly scrambled back to the 9X6" hole and passed her hand through. She contacted Optimus' left arm.

"Optimus?" her voice squeaked under the weary plea. "Optimus, it's me. Optimus?" Rusti tugged at his sleeve. Seconds to minutes passed. The metal floor made her face and arms cold and Rusti wanted to retract her arm. But her heart refused to break contact, even though all she had was a touch. "Please wake up," she begged. "Please be okay." she stretched as far as her arm could go but failed to get closer. " _Please_ wake up," she sadly repeated. Rusti stroked his arm until too tired, she rested with fingers outstretched toward him.

Movement brought Rusti back to the miserable world. Prime's sad, quiet voice made her heart leap with joy. "Optimus? Optimus?"

Prime stirred, coughed and softly groaned. He moved languidly, arms forward, palms to the floor. Lack of strength forced him to remain face-down. He faced left.

Rusti withdrew her arm, pushed her body downward and peered through the hole. "Optimus?" She bit back tears when her eyes beheld the terrible cuts and bruises on his face. "Ohmigod. What did they do to you?"

He tried to smile. "Tied me to a railroad track. Train was pretty fast."

"That is not funny," she admonished. "And if I ever see that damn train, I'll give it a piece of my mind."

"I have no doubt, Sweetheart."

"Who did this? How long ago?"

"I don't know how long ago. Nightstick was jut returning the favor I did him."

Rusti narrowed her eyes. "Who's Nightstick?"

"A punk Targetmaster who can't tell the difference between his mouth and a garbage disposal."

"A Targetmaster," she scoffed. "How badly did he hurt you, Optimus?"

"Not permanently. I look worse than I feel."

"But he was a Targetmaster. I'm surprised he didn't break any bones-"

Prime smirked. "I said he was a Targetmaster, Rusti. I did not say he was good at fighting."

Rusti tried not to laugh. "I know you're trying to alleviate my concern, Optimus. It's just not working very well right now." He responded with a soft noise and turned quiet. Silence made her uneasy and Rusti turned their conversation elsewhere. "Did I tell you I transformed a Headmaster?"

"Have you any idea what that sounds like?" Prime countered.

She laughed. Prime's smile softened, his eyes glowed. "I love to hear you laugh, Little Bell. The universe could crumble to dust but as long as you're with me, I can be happy."

She remembered him saying something like that once before. Or was it several times? Turning serious, Rusti drew a deep breath. "I have to get you out of here."

Prime hesitated. "I was going to make a damsel-in-distress joke. But that would be moot and over-used."

Taken back, Rusti tilted her head. "Eh?" She abandoned confusion and took his hand when he reached for her. "I'm so scared for you," she whispered. "I'm so... _frustrated_ because I can't do anything. The building's system will not communicate with me because I'm an alien."

Optimus creased his brows. "Did you just call yourself an alien?"

"Optimus, this is serious," she gently scolded. "The Mozart has arrived and I need to guide him to our position."

Prime peered closer to the opening. "Wait. Did you just say the Sagittarian Mozart is nearby?"

"Yes. His motif is here right now."

"Then we must wait."

That was not going to work for her. "Optimus-"

"We'll be okay, Rusti," he assured her. "But we must wait for the right moment."

"Okay," she replied with sarcasm. "what about Galvatron? He's not here with us. I am _not_ going to leave him with those bastards."

Galvatron is a big bot, Rusti. I assure you he can take care of himself."

"He can't drive a car. He can't _fly_ and he can't sing."

Optimus' laughter bespoke of his weariness. "I know. I know he can't sing."

Rusti let the moment go so he could rest. If only she could hold him again. If only she could kiss his wounds and bruises away. However, she digressed, their situation could be far, far worse. And like he said, something was bound to happen soon. Craning her neck back, Rusti checked to see if the Mozart's personification remained with them.

The ghostly apparition yet stood guard, waiting.

" _MISS LADY!"_

She drew a deep breath and moaned when her whole body ached from lying on the cold mean floor. "What?"

The Mozart's motif paced before the two cells, restless and excited. _"ORBITAL ENTRY AT T-20 MINUTES."_

"Twenty minutes?" she repeated. Releasing Prime's hand, Rusti stood and stiffly approached the energy bars. "Are you coming in through the organic part of the planet?"

" _STAND BY, MISS. I AM RECEIVING A SIGNAL FROM THE_ _INFRACTION_ _."_

She faintly heard Prime call her name and Rusti returned to her spot by the hole. "Optimus the Mozart is about to reach-what do you call that? Atmospheric entry?"

"Rusti," Optimus said wearily, "Skorponok is here. If the Sagittarian Mozart approaches, he will be assaulted."

Rusti grimaced. "Well, how did the Infraction land here?" The Autobot leader could not answer. "Sssshit." she swore. "I don't know anything about piloting a ship-let alone and Autobot space cruiser!" She stood, paced, paused, paced and looked at Mozart again. "Okay. Okay. Maybe I don't need to panic just yet. Right?"

The power flickered. The lights blinked. The power went out and with it, the energy bars and the lights.

"Okay, now I can panic."

" _MISS LADY,"_ Mozart called.

"I'm okay."

" _NO, MISS LADY, I JUST RECEIVED A SIGNAL FROM RODIMUS PRIME!"_

"Know what? That's a good thing! Mozart, follow Roddi's signal." She heard Prime weakly call her again. Holding her breath for sheer joy, Rusti let the wall guide her into his cell. She crawled to him so as not to step or trip over him. She caught his hands and he, on his knees, drew her close.

Prime embraced her fiercely. "I need you to stand in the corridor-"

"What? No, I am not leaving you!"

"Rusti!" he said firmly. "You _must_ stand in the corridor! NOW! Go!"

She released him, trembling with confusion, and obeyed. She heard him gasp, hold his breath and exhale once more. Metal screeched, cracked and snapped. The partition between their cells broke from the top and collapsed. In the dark she beheld the height of his optics, now in their natural form.

With mixed emotions she ran to him.

 _ **-INCLINATION-**_

Galvatron and his involuntary guards emerged into a gigantic room. A shiny metal floor softly reflected long bars of light above. Shorter tubes of light protruded from the walls. Between each pair of lights hung the face or the skull of any type of species. What caught Galvatron's eyes were the shrunken, trans-organic faces of more than one Quintesson. Under each face hung a plaque written in Metaxan.

"I see you admire Psyklenox's gratuitous gallery."

Galvatron lifted his optics and met Zarak, Skorponok's head component. "My, my," the former Decepticon leader sang, "Look at you, Zarak! Finally painted over the acid pink color, I see. Were you bullied out of that fashion?"

Zarak frowned. "You never were very funny, Galvatron," he rumbled.

"Magnus would agree. But enough of me. Let's talk about you."

"Let us _not_." Zarak objected. "I want to know how you survived. How you return from the dregs and dross to tarnish the galaxy with your filthy presence?"

"Mm." Galvatron nodded. "Consider it a _Prime_ -thing. But why be puzzled and concerned with my new-found, uh, humanity." He paused as a small group of people entered the large room. Many were military police. Two headmaster binaries followed. They glared at Galvatron, who grinned with mischief. "So!" he said loudly enough, "I'm under the assumption you did not bring me here to make me into a blot of paste. And knowing our-er- _mutual animosity_ -you're not doing this to be nice, either."

Zarak folded his arms and crossed one leg other the other. "You talk like an Autobot, Galvatron."

Galvatron smiled again. "And you sit like a panzi on the fry." He grinned even brighter when Zarak uncrossed his legs and sat taller.

"What initially brought you here, Galvatron?"

"Would you believe it's the fault of a magic slug?" Galvatron's smile faltered, uncertain how these great and mighty warriors might take the fantastic truth. Then Galvatron heard a squeaky voice that made him realize _he_ was the joke.

"SNAIL!" Pissant screamed. "SNA-IL! What's the matter with you? Hey, stupid, move forward!'

Nightstick stepped into the room through the side entrance. Pissant squelched and oozed all over the Nebulon's hands. The Headmaster himself looked like he'd been peppered with BB's.

Galvatron huffed, inclined to laugh. "What happened to you?" he asked Nightstick.

Pissant glanced from Galvatron to Nightstick and back. He grinned, displaying a creepy set of tiny teeth. " _Optimus Prime,_ " the mollusk answered in turn. "And a _lovely_ job it is, too. Now, move forward, you apocalyptic REJECT!"

Galvatron fisted his hips. "What is this about? And why is that thing here?"

Pissant's little voice squealed in frustration. He threw his right hand behind him and a nasty string of slime splattered Nightstick across the face.

Nightstick heaved but managed to control his stomach.

"How DARE you refer to me as anything less than a god, you sleezoid!"

Zarak laughed like a goat. "That's right, Galvatron! Where are your manners and humble gratitude?"

Galvatron grinned but did not meet the Nebulon Headmaster's optics. "Up yours, Zarak. What is this about?" No one answered. No one made a single noise until the main doors opened. Galvatron turned about and faced a creature that appeared more android than robot. His large chest wore gold. His arms appeared humanoid and his long legs, transparent at the thigh, were also wrapped with a golden plating. A robe wrapped about his shoulders and fell to mid-calf.

The android stood before Galvatron and stared down as one would an ant. "For death's hell, Primacron," he boomed. "Return Galvatron to normal."

"But... he's _cute_ ," the snail protested. "Who knew Galvatron would be hairless? Although, he is cheeky." Pause. "You're right, now I consider it. He should walk among gods. Come, then, Galvatron return to the nature of your species."

With a lurch, the world shrank around the former Decepticon leader. Now he stood slightly shorter than the android. Then Galvatron realized who the android was and frowned. "Much better," he approved.

The android sneered. You are pitiful thing, Galvatron. I despise your weakness."

Galvatron lifted his chin as if to look down. "I'd give you a back-handed compliment, Psyklenox. But why waste words with you?"

The android's optics flared orange. He rounded Galvatron and approached the throne. "Get out," he growled at Zarak.

Skorponok's binary removed his tailpipe from the chair and stood at the right side. Psyklenox sat and his gaze rounded the room; a god-king now held court. "Welcome, Galvatron, to the Regime. Perhaps you'd care to tell me how you and your little band of upstarts slipped past planetary defenses."

"I sneezed," Galvatron joked. "I sneezed and sneezed and covered the whole ship in oozing nastiness and the coating-"

"Stop!" the ancient mechanism ordered "I did not order you to come here for entertainment."

"Oh?"

"I have, rather, a proposition for you, Galvatron."

"Is that so?" Galvatron scanned everyone he could without looking like he was reading their body language. Was this proposition a hoax? Was Tall, Too Ugly and Humanoid setting a trap? "I'm listening."

"Join us, Galvatron. I offer you a place at my right side. I will give you an army-ten armies. And as many worlds as you desire to conquer."

Galvatron stared, vastly uncertain. "Well," he declared, "as one cosmic jackass to another: _why?_ What's in it for you?"

Pissant answered instead: "Always to the point, Galvatron. You have a ...unique ability and we want to encourage the strength of your ability."

Galvatron laughed. "My _ability?_ You, who are vastly older than I, desire my relatively _juvenile_ abilities? You remind me of the vampire I encountered on the space station."

"Yes, Galvatron. You laugh because you do not understand. We brought you here to help you understand." The former Decepticon leader folded his arms and silently glowered.

Psyklenox stepped to the left. "Zarak, if you please."

The Head of Skorponok opened his chest compartment and brought forth the very thing that lured Galvatron into the city: an Eden Stone; the Decepticon Matrix of Power. No hesitation, no debate. Zarak descended the steps and handed it over. Now they watched as Galvatron stared motionless into the object's mystical light. This was his destiny. Power and greatness all be damned. _This_ was his destiny. The former Decepticon leader deliberately ignored Psyklenox's oily smile.

"Give it a test, Galvatron." the android cooed. "I'm sure this is the very thing you've sought for millions of years. Ultimate divine power."

Galvatron turned somber. "Yes," he agreed quietly. "For _you_ , I have no doubt it's the power you crave. But why hand it to me? Why not use it yourselves?"

The fact that the room fell dead quiet told Galvatron he caught them off guard. They expected him to celebrate the moment by some despicable self-aggrandizing monologue. But Galvatron's lust for power and war died a long time ago. The Matrix represented responsibility; the badge of true leadership. His lust morphed into respect.

"It rejected Skorponok," Psyklenox answered. "I cannot fully control it. I know the Matrix can do significantly more than teach me history lessons and activate artificial intelligence." the Regime supreme ruler smiled, pleased with Galvatron's surprised expression. "Oh yes. It grants high-threshold artificial intelligence. It's not the same as a living spark, I'll grant. But who needs a spark to obey orders?"

Galvatron stared at the Quintesson's First automaton before lowering optics upon the Matrix. He realized Psyklenox commanded a _vast_ army. And with Skorponok and the Decepticons on the team, Psyk could conquer anything. _Anything._ "And," Galvatron said, "what is my role in your schemes of might, power and control?"

"Troop movement. Simple. Easily done."

Pissant sniggered, catching Galvatron's attention. "I'm sure you have no idea what he's saying. Allow me to translate-"

"Don't insult me, _Werm_ ," Galvatron growled. He looked back at Psyklenox. "Don't expect my cooperation to be free."

"I gave you what payment I'm willing to offer."

"Oh, of course!" Galvatron mocked. "Planets, armies, riches and power. You did not account that I might have one more request."

Pissant screeched. "Oh, for cosmic's unholy sake, Galvatron. Leave the damn Autobots out of this!"

"Why? They're the reason I'm here."

"No pets allowed." Pissant snorted.

To everyone's horror, Galvatron tossed the Matrix up and caught it like a ball. He smiled. "Very well." The former Decepticon leader turned about face and aimed for the doors.

"WAIT!" the snail cried. "We'll accept your terms, Galvatron. Only on the condition that you open a portal large enough to move Psyklenonx's army through."

Galvatron spun about and pointed at the Mollusk. "What's in it for you, _Werm_? Hmm?"

Psyklenox clasped hands behind his back. "Primacron has his own deals with me, Galvatron."

Galvatron's expression turned cold. "Careful, Psyklenox. Anyone willing to betray one person will not hesitate to betray another." He looked to the creepy android. "You may not realize it, but you are in a bad marriage."

Psyklenox raised his voice. "And isn't it a wonderful thing that you need not concern yourself in my person affairs?" Psyklenox opened his arms. "Come, Galvatron! What I offer you isn't a bloodbath or a list of chores! All I ask is that you help us open a couple of portals."

"Why not use the window system that already exists here?"

Pissant crossed his little arms. "Those are _Quintesson_ systems, Galvatron they're heavily monitored."

The Inoux are using them," the Decepticon countered.

Psyklenox nodded. "Primacron has informed me the Inoux are working with the Quintessons. I don't like competition."

Galvatron could not fault Psyk and his band of not-so-merry morons for that decision. "Very well, then," he stated. "Release the others and I'll cooperate.

Psyklenox praised Galvatron's agreement. But it was Pissant that concerned Galvatron. Given the chance, the Decepticon would certainly squish the mollusk. But he learned long ago that underestimating an enemy was stupid and short-sighted.

Much to Galvatron's thinning patience, Psyk decided to hold a banquet. Zarak, Scourge, Pissant and many unnamed ruling governors attended. The Regime's tyrant took his time, basking in the warmth of a well-worked plan. But Galvatron itched to get the job over with and figure a way out. He hoped Optimus and the others were alright but dared not ask. Every now and again he caught Pissant staring with his tiny black eyes. By the time Galvatron thought to say something, Psyklenox declared the banquet over; time to get to business.

Psyklenox's court whisked to a preplanned destination two miles from the city. Surrounded by enemies on all sides, Galvatron felt alone; a last mech standing before an execution squad. He half listened to Pissant and wondered why the supposed 'god' could not use the Matrix himself.

A suspicious tingling niggled the back of Galvatron's head like someone wiggling a tiny chip loose from its home. Galvatron grew more concerned for his companions and friends.

Psyklenox's voice struck chords of boredom and growing impatience. "Are you going to stand there all day while we gather dust and grow rust boils or are you going to open a portal?"

"Do not rush me," Galvatron returned with even tones. "I do not know the consequences of possible mistakes. Besides, I don't understand why the _werm_ can't do this."

Pissant shook his tiny arms then banged his own head with tiny fists. "I _told_ you, Moron Wannabe! The Council of Zhat Aut-Tauch will not tolerate any mischief. AND while I am still able to use some of my diving abilities, I can't do _everything_ and in case you have failed to notice, I'm a little SHORT!"

"Oh!" Galvatron mocked. He crouched low enough to stare the snail down. "Size counts, does it?" He stood and laughed. Pointing with his left hand, the former Decepticon leader made the first attempt.

A burst of light zapped from nowhere like a firecracker and vanished.

He tried again with no result.

"Hell's praises," Psyklenox swore. Do you need an instruction booklet and a translation?"

"Be quiet!" Galvatron hissed he rubbed his fingers together and took the challenge more seriously. They want a portal. They did not ask where. Dark images came to mind and he smiled. How about scaring them all positively cold?

The third attempt came with no effort. A misshapen hole opened the size of a fist. The edges cracked with energy and the window expanded ten feet. Twenty. Thirty. Forty. And the court beheld a world draped in darkness. Unnatural light glared from borders of walls and panels along the flooring. As they watched, the group gasped. The walls dripped with Autobot lifeblood. Part of the wall melted then aged an ash grey. It disintegrated like sand.

Not one person anticipated the freakish thing that snapped its head out the window.

Pissant screamed.

Psyklenox, who stood closest to the black triangular head, leapt backward like a stricken cat.

Void hissed and stretched its neck further, snapping deadly teeth at the android.

"Stop!" Galvatron ordered. The moment left him shaken. The Window fizzled and with it, the Matrix Virus.

A deep seated terror enveloped the group in silence before Psyklenox screamed. "WHAT THE UNHOLY SPHERES WAS THAT?"

Galvatron recovered from surprise faster than they and maintained composure. "Clearly it is the one thing that terrifies you, Psylenox. It is-or _was_ a Virus."

Pissant scoffed. His scoff turned to a chuckle before he cracked into full laughter. All optics glued onto him until the mollusk settled down. "It went right for you, Psyklenox. Love! What pheromones are you producing?"

The creepy android pointed at Galvatron. "How DARE you commit such a treasonous act!"

"Consider it a dry run, oh emperor of the Regime," Galvatron answered calmly. "I had control. Now," he set fists on hips. "How about another try? You pick the target this time."

Psyklenox uttered four complex, five dimensional coordinates. Galvatron made the self-proclaimed emperor repeat himself twice. Galvatron knew he was trying Psyklenox's patience. He agreed to work with the mob of tyrants. That did not preclude him from being a pain in the aft.

By the time Psyklenox completed the repeated coordinates, Galvatron realized where and _when_ the emperor wanted the window opened.

"Cratis?" Galvatron asked. "Cratis at three point seven thousand cycles ago?"

"Yyyyess," Psyklenox purred.

"Why?"

"Have you not been to Cratis, Galvatron? Have you even heard of Cratis? Fairly doubtful."

At first Galvaron wanted to correct Psyk but changed his mind. Anything leading to Autobot activity could jeopardize everything. With a light shrug for show, Galvatron delved deep with himself. He conjured his own memories; the dead landscape and the former Decepticon leader mentally traveled backward and backward in time. And Baam! He landed on a coordinate sequence. He did not realize part of those coordinates included a specific date.

How did Psyklenox know?

A flare of golden light distracted Galvatron from the question. Before the group stood a house-sized opening into the landscape of a city. Tall buildings and grand towers reflected the sunlight. People traveled back and forth on antigravity vehicles.

" _Now,_ Primacron!" Psyklenox ordered.

The snail clapped his tiny hands. The Inoux that appeared from Alphaxone appeared among them. They leapt through the window and flew or dropped onto the city streets. The window zipped shut and Galvatron snapped his head at the mollusk.

"What the Pitt was THAT? You shut the window!"

"Yes," Pissant confirmed. "They will, shall we say, rack-and-pack Cratis for us before invading Yolthanis III."

Galvatron's fuel ran cold. Optimus said he fought the Inoux eons ago on _Yolthanis III_. Sickened, the former Decepticon leader turned away. Psyklenox ordered his court and Zarak to prepare for a planet-sized shipment of raw materials, weapons, machines and slaves, Cratis was not obliterated by its own population; but conquered, ravaged and raped.

Galvatron faintly heard Psyklenox request another window. The Decepticon brooded and wondered whether or not he should breach space-time again. What time laws did he break? What time laws _could_ he break? Could he open a window beneath their feet so they'd all vanish from the present?

Yes, but it would only delay their plans, not stop them. An outburst from Psyklenox dragged Galvatron out of his musings.

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN THERE'S A HUGE SHIP in our space?" Psyklenox cupped the left side of his head, listening to someone on a private comlink.

Zarak bellowed. "What the Torments IS THAT?!"

Galvatron gazed at the pointed direction and he too turned to shock. The Sagittarian Mozart flew soundlessly over the city. The ship cast a cold shadow while Lactromycix's defenses rallied and warning sirens blared.

Galvatron smiled in spite of himself. "NO!" Pissant screamed. "That's not possible! I made sure it could not activate!"

Galvatron met the snail's beady black eyes. "Galvatron!" Pissant shouted, "Open a window! I will guide you through the coordinates."

"No," Galvatron replied firmly. "I've had enough of you telling me what to do."

Pissant's little face turned mean. It looked funny but Galvatron knew the _werm_ meant business. "OPEN A WINDOW OR I WILL KILL THE AUTOBOTS!"

Loathed to obey, Galvatron knew there was more at stake than his pride. He chose a clearing facing the city while Psyklenox and his court scrambled to action.

A spark of temporal energy flared cold blue. Galvatron intensely concentrated and a second spark flashed and vanished. A small opening revealed stars and a planet. With a tiny shout, Pissant aimed energy at the small window.

It collapsed.

"WHAT THE HELL?!" Galvatron spun and vehemently cursed the slug.

"I must redirect the energy to a more specific time and place. Coordinate are not enough for my project." Pissant sniveled.

The Decepticon's optics burned brightly. "You just asked me to open another window! Now it will take more time to gather enough energy for another run, you unscientific imbecile!"

Pissant snorted and rolled his eyes. " _Figure it out_ , Galvatron. You are running out of time!"

The city buzzed with panic. Galvatron found it difficult to concentrate when part of him hoped Prime planned to attack. He pried open another window. It took longer to grow and when it reached two sizes larger Pissant struck it again.

This time the window blew outward and knocked everyone off their feet. A distortion wave rolled from the force. Pissant screamed first then Zarak and two of Psyklenox's governors. Galvatron lay flat on his back and stared at the distant Autobot ship.

He laughed.

"DAMMIT TO HELCOTH!" Psyklenox swore. "Galvatron open a damned window back to city and do it NOW!"

"No!" Pissant objected. "We must get to Monicus FIRST! WE MUST!"

"Monicus?" Galvatron echoed. "Monicus is gone."

"SHUT UP!" the snail squealed. "I wasn't TALKING to you!"

Psyklenox's voice boomed. "I DON'T CARE!"

And to Galvatron's chagrin, both the android and the slug chorused: "OPEN THE DAMN WINDOW, GALVATRON!"

"There isn't enough power!" The Decepticon growled back. But he read their faces and knew neither logic nor reason convinced them. He pointed at two of Psyklenox's constituents as the Mozart fired upon the city. The two victims screamed as the Matrix reorganized their life force and opened a window large enough to move a ship through.

Primacron shouted triumphantly and zapped the window. The coordinates changed and Galvatron recognized Monicus. "FINALLY!" the _werm_ declared. "I CAN _FINALLY_ GET WHAT'S MINE!"

A Sweep dropped from the air and crashed a short distance away. Galvatron shouted above the noise. "WHAT? WHAT IS YOURS?"

" _Daraqdiodium_ , Galvatron! The rarest power crystal in this galaxy! And it's MINE!"

Galvatron couldn't decide to be angry or disgusted. Psyklenox and Zarak paid no attention as they directed troops and city defenses this way and that. The Mozart shot Laktromycix against and again.

"It's time to leave," Primacron said through the noise, "And I need one more item." The snail stretched forth his right hand.

Galvatron lurched as if someone yanked his chest plate off. He stumbled backward, confused and uncoordinated. His body heaved back then lurched once more and the Matrix broke free of his body. He fell face-down as Pissant squealed with delight.

"NOW!" the _werm_ proclaimed. "I shall be free!" the Matrix floated to Primacron. Pissant's body grew, grew and grew until he crushed Nightstick under him. His body morphed so that his hands stretched and took hold of the Decepticon Matrix of Power. He laughed and held his prize aloft for all to see. "Psyklenox!" he shouted. "I am now your new manager!"

The android leapt into a sprint.

Primacron broke the Matrix housing.

Psyklenox reached too late and he and Primacron stood transfixed on the sphere of beautiful light.

A strange voice emitted from the sphere and Galvatron turned cold.

 _YOU ARE NOT THE SON OF ZH'XN. YOU HAVE NEITHER RIGHT NOR INTEGRITY. YET I GRANT YOU POWER. AND YOU WILL FEEL THE POWER UNTIL THE END._ "

Primacron lurched this time. His yellow eyes expanded as if to cover his face. "No!" his body convulsed. No!"

Had he not seen it firsthand, Galvaron would not have believed it. Primacron's body convulsed and his skin turned silver-black and liquified. Primacron screamed in dire agony as his body reformed into angles and flat sides. His body shifted and contorted into a weapon. Primacron dropped at Psyklenox's feet.

The android dictator picked it up and turned the gun from side to side. Then he picked up the Matrix which returned to its original shell. "Most unexpected," Psyklenox mused. He laughed when Primacron pleaded for help. The android pointed his new-found toy at Galvatron, changed his mind and shot one of his own bodyguards. The victim's form shattered into a microcosm of colorful particles. A shriek followed.

It took a few seconds before Galvatron realized the scream dd not come from the vaporized victim, but Primacron.

Psyklenox scoffed with surprise and shot one of his governors. The female vanished in a horizontal shower of particles and again, the now-sapient weapon screamed, expressing her agony.

Psyklenox laughed, heedless of mechanical sounds of transformation approaching from behind.

Galvatron flinched with surprise when Ultra Magnus tackled the distracted android.

"RUN!" Magnus ordered. "I got him! RUN!"

"Not yet," Galvatron replied. He stretched out his hand and the Matrix flew to him. Turning to the open window, Galvatron searched his memory to conjure coordinates.

And then he remembered the book Rusti snatched.

 _The gateways!_

Reconfiguring directions, Galvatron programed the window.

A billow of thunder drowned all noise. The Mozart descended from the clouds while Scourge and his minions shot laser arrows against the force field.

The Mozart circled Laktromycix, unleashing a barrage of bombs before he came within twenty feet of the ground.

A Sweep raced ahead of the cruiser and fired at Magnus. The Major-general suffered several injuries but refused to release Psyklenox. Galvatron threw himself at the sweep as it looped back for another attack.

"GAVATRON!" Magnus barked above the rumbling waves, "GET TO THE SHIP!"

"NO! YOU ARE INDISPENSABLE, MAGNUS GO! I'll hold them here! Go!" The city commander yet hesitated. Galvatron swept up the Primacron weapon and pointed it at Magnus. "GO!" He shot the Sweep then trained the weapon again. "GO!" Galvatron resolutely ignored the concern in Magnus' expression.

With a running start, the city commander leapt into the air, shifted into jet mode and blasted off. His dust cloud distracted the small party.

Magnus flew out of range and joined his ship.

Galvatron looked from him to the angry group. The Metaxan governors and Targetmaster binaries watched as Scourge and three Sweeps lent their assistance to Psyklenox's bodyguards. They jumped Galvatron who offered little to no resistance.

With vitriol on his smiling face, Psyklenox approached to gloat.

"Guess you want me to spend the night," Galvatron taunted.

Psyk folded his arms. "You can sleep in the spare bedroom." The android watched as the Sweeps eagerly sliced off both Galvatron's legs and his right arm.

Magnus circled the Mozart once before taking point in the starboard shuttle bay. Delighted to have his ship back online, he shifted to truck mode and raced for auxiliary control. "Sagittarian Mozart," he called.

 _ONLINE._

"Locate Optimus Prime-" he stopped short when he met Rodimus at the AC door.

Roddi grinned as if all the light around them came from within. "Too late, Mags. Cloudstreaker's on the bridge. We're rendezvousing with the Infraction and getting the flock out."

"Galvatron's down there and in trouble."

"Galvatron is a big boy. He can handle himself."

"Rodimus-"

"Optimus _first_ ," Roddi emphasized.

Magnus reluctantly agreed. The ship bucked and shuddered and both mechs stumbled with the impact.

Rodimus returned to the auxiliary. "Seems like their reinforcements have finally arrived.

" _Which_ reinforcements?" Magnus asked as he shadowed Prime. "And how did you get on board? How did you change back?"

"Later!" Roddi shouted as the ship tilted and engines revved. Rodimus made adjustments on the instrument panel. "Rain, get those bozos off our tail!"

Cloudy's voice chimed through ship-wide comms. "We've got serious company, Commander!"

Rodimus sighed. "We need time to extract our friends from the city. Ultra Magnus you and Cloudstreaker are the only aerial fighters we have."

"All you have to do is ask Rodimus," Magnus said without malice.

Rodimus nodded. "Skorponok, the big one and three Headmasters are out there. Might need some extra ammunition."

 **-INCLINATION-**

Rusti barely snapped the safety belt when Prime shot down the street. He ran through stop signs and sideswiped several unoccupied vehicles.

Rusti spotted the Inoux before Prime did. She unintentionally screamed as he slammed the brakes. He transformed around her. "No!" she objected, "No, he's baiting you!" She raced off the street as the Inoux Infantry class pecked the ground with sturdy footless legs.

It leapt for Prime like a shiny black arrow. Optimus side-stepped the assault and followed with a shot from his rifle.

The laser did no damage to the alien but the force snapped the Inoux off course and it crashed into a truck, smashing the vehicle as though it were plastic. The alien rebounded and charged for a second assault.

Prime eyed his wife. "Keep moving. I'll catch up."

Rusti wanted to object even as she crossed another street. It took all her will not to look back when something thudded and crashed behind.

She rounded a corner and held her back to the wall. High above the city, the Sagittarian Mozart floated in wait. " _Mozart_ _,_ " she mentally called. " _What is going on? Tell me what is going on."_

For several moments, the fight between Prime and the Inoux hit a silent wall. Don't panic, she told herself. Optimus will be just fine. "Mozart," she said aloud, "What is going on?"

" _PERSONNEL INFLUX DISORIENTATION, MISS LADY. MEDICAL ASSISTANCE OFFLINE._ "

"What's that mean-never mind." Rusti searched her surroundings in hopes of higher ground. She needed to see the whole city to determine how to guide the ship. A sturdy outcropping of rock piled behind a nature grove several buildings away. Rusti could not tell its distance, only that she needed to get there as soon as possible.

" _HOSTILES INCOMING!_ Mozart warned. " _DECEPTICONS!_ "

Rusti instinctively hit the pavement when three Sweeps flew close overhead and shot into the sky. "Evasive maneuvers, Mozart!" she ordered. "Ascend!" She raced down the sidewalk, searching for a means to reach the boulders. Down one block, then another led her into a nice neighborhood. An old, small vehicle with a dirty exterior and broken windshield sat in front of an older but tidy home.

"It's got wheels." she said to herself. "It'll work." She slid into the dusty and grimy car with a grimace. The vehicle started under her urging. Rusti released the brake and steered to the end of the street. She glanced behind, batted her eyes left, right and left again before flooring the pedal. The car momentarily fish tailed. Rusti drove it hard. She shot through two stop signs and evaded a chase.

The city limits came without gates, guards or guns. The checkpoint stood empty. She wondered if the time distortion wave changed the city's security. The opened gate invited her and Rusti drove right through.

Unlike the Inouxian Assassin Optimus confronted on Mars, the Infantry did not try to hack the Autobot leader on a psychological level. But then, Optimus was ill at the time he fought the Assassin and more vulnerable to attack.

The Infantry came at Prime as Rusti escaped the scene. Prime landed a foot in the freak's face. It flew back and landed hard against a delivery truck.

Prime bent over, palms on knees. "Is that all you have? Come on."

The Inoux hissed, rolled over and picked up the truck. Optimus punched the vehicle so that it reversed course and hit the Inoux. Truck and black alien slapped the street.

The infantry sliced its way through the truck like

a living can opener. It came at Prime again, its arms swung open and it leapt into the air.

Prime ducked, caught the Inoux's advancing leg and twirled it clockwise. Optimus released his opponent and the alien flew through the door of a dry ice factory.

Optimus huffed as people scattered like bugs. "Had enough?" he called. "Or shall we go another round?" he waited... waited...

The Inoux burst out the factory's upper story window. A long thick hose trailed behind it like an old dead snake. With a shake of its hands, the monster released a shower of liquid nitrogen.

Optimus didn't think he could move faster than at any other time in his life. He leapt behind another deliver truck then backed into a post office when the truck burst from the intense cold.

Prime instinctively covered his head then peeked under covering arms as debris floated and rained on the ground. The cap from the truck's tire rolled toward him like a penny on its side. It hit a rock and dropped.

Optimus grabbed the cap and using a tight-beam laser from his optics, he reformed the cap into a disc with a wicked-thin edge.

Peering round the corner, he watched the Inoux snooped around the truck, looking for a dead enemy. The Infantry Class checked under the truck, the liquid nitrogen hose pointed downward. The minute he'd spot Optimus, that hose and its contents would point high. Optimus quickly calculated action, reaction, speed and trajectory.

Tricky.

He counted to three, leapt out of hiding and imitated a humanoid practiced ballet, the Inoux swung right, hose at the ready. The nitrogen sprayed. Prime threw the disc as hard and accurately as he could before hitting the ground and rolling out of reach.

The disc hit the hose head and sliced the nozzle in half. The Inoux lost control of the hose and its pressure. The hose snaked up and down and splattered the alien. The ground underfoot froze instantly. Nitrogen sprayed the alien until someone from the factory shut the nitrogen off.

Optimus ripped the rail from a nearby set of stairs. He approached the Inoux and swung the metal rod like a bat.

The Inoux shattered like obsidian.

Without another thought, the Autobot leader jumped over the mess, transformed and sped down the street.

The little car made it uphill about half way. Not good enough for Rusti. She got out and ran the rest of the way, scrabbling on all fours over stones and loose gravel. She reached the top and searched for the Sagittarian Mozart.

There! Twelve-thirty from where she stood. The Autobot star cruiser flew just under cloud cover. Four Decepticon jets zipped to and fro, spitting laser fire at the ship. The Mozart's shield held strong for the moment.

"I can do this," Rusti assured herself. "I can do this." she closed her eyes and reached for the Mozart. The computer skipped as if surprised by her invading mind. But the ship itself greeted her and released control. Rusti opened her eyes and smiled subtly.

" _Now_ ," she whispered, "let's show those bastards how to fly."

The Mozart changed his shield frequency. His form changed into a more atmospheric-friendly shape. A set of sleek wings folded out from the starboard/port. Mozart raced ahead of his six attackers. As they chased, their laser fire hit the shield with the impact of cotton balls.

Rusti ordered the Mozart to go into a cold drop. The ship cut thrusters and dipped to the right. The Sweeps passed right by. The Mozart's engines kicked back on and his ion cannons blew two Sweeps out of the air. The other Decepticons darted into the clouds. They stayed out of range for seven seconds before reappearing above the Mozart and barraged the ship at close range. As they fired from above, several buildings around the city split open and also fired on the ship.

Not to be outdone by an enemy, Rusti guided Mozart in a hairpin turn. The ship again dropped close to Laktromycix and blasted the offensive buildings one by one and eliminated two ground-to-air laser cannons.

Something mentally smacked Rusti and she flinched. Rodimus! The Mozart informed her Rodimus and a companion made it to the bridge.

She blinked. _What companion?_

Rusti spotted Optimus speeding down an empty street before the ground was shot out from under her. She screamed and dropped amid a landslide. Boulders missed her as she continued the deadly descent. Her mind jumbled as her vision filled with confusion. The rocks cracked and sliced her while dark thunder boomed overhead.

And then the fall stopped when a giant hand grabbed her out of the slide.

"GO!"

She crumpled upon solid metal flooring and coughed. Rusti rolled side to side and startled when the floor trembled.

"Whoa, easy there, Lady-Friend," Roddi said to calm her. "We gotchya. We gotchya." He raised his voice: "They're onboard, Cloudstreaker!" he called. "Get us the Pitt out of here!"

"Galvatron-" Rusti's voice cut short and she coughed again.

"We'll come back-" the Mozart quaked and tilted from a direct hit. "Skorponok's kicking our ass at the moment."

Cloudstreaker engaged the Mozart's improved engines and thrust the cruiser across the land. The Decepticons hung tight on the tail until she made the most daring move: Cloudstreaker sent all shields to the right side of the Mozart then raced and thrust upward. The ship, not designed for razorplaining used the shields as a cushion and swept up and up six miles. Three Sweeps and two Headmasters crashed and burned when they failed to copy the moves.

Cloudstreaker made a hairpin loop, stressing the Mozart's structural integrity. Then the crazy femme plunged the Autobot ship into Galvatron's time window. The second the Mozart passed, the window collapsed, leaving Skorponok roaring with rage before he crashed.

Too close to call.

115


End file.
